


When Kings Collide

by hckybll



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-22
Updated: 2014-02-08
Packaged: 2017-11-26 10:22:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 79,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/649546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hckybll/pseuds/hckybll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two separate kingdoms about to be joined by marriage.  The prince and the young princess have to learn to love each other.   The Kings Bastards meet and become friends until ones fondness for a wild princess threatens to break the friendship.  One bastard has to choose his path while the other has accept what he can never have.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is something i work on when I'm having trouble with my other story. I try to use this world to keep my characters in my modern au in character. I'm not sure where it's going exactly or if I'm going to keep posting I just wanted to see what other people thought about it. GRRM has created a beautiful world and characters I'm just trying to play with them.

Chapter 1- Ned Stark

The chaos in Winterfell left nobody at peace. King Stark was going over the cost of this feast, and no doubt the many more to come. Seventeen years ago, the kingdom had be divided once again. After the fall of the Targaryens, Lord Stark planned on bending the knee to his friend and chosen brother like the rest of the realm. Robert Baratheon shocked everyone when he chose to split the kingdoms once again, naming Ned King in the North. “I know nothing of the North Ned. How can I rule it? Besides, I won’t have my brother kneeling to me.” The words still haunted him. Never in his life did Ned believe he would be the Lord of Winterfell, let alone King in the North. There was a knock on his door. “Enter” His wife stepped in, with her eyes shining with controlled rage. “My Queen” Ned said fondly. 

“Your daughter will be the death of me Ned.” He held back his smile, knowing it would only extend his wife’s foul mood. 

“And what has Princess Arya done this time.” He couldn’t keep the humor out of his voice. 

“I caught her playing with a sword, with him.” There was only one person 'him' could be. 

“I’ll speak to them.” He said to placate his wife. 

“Ned, she needs to be controlled; she is nearly four and ten. She should already have a match.” Ned was tired of this conversation. The thought of selling his daughters for political reason pained him. More so with Arya, Sansa would be a perfect lady of a man’s castle. It was what she wanted; in fact he had already made a great match for Princess Sansa, but the poor lad was killed in a hunting accident before they could be joined. That was less than a year past. 

Arya on the other hand was far too wild for any of her possible suitors. It took all of his restraint not to laugh when she beat a young Frey suitor in a fight. The wolf’s blood ran wild through his youngest daughter’s veins. He knew how some men were with their wives, and he couldn’t stomach the thought of a man beating Arya into submission and breaking her wild spirit. Catelyn had blamed him for her behavior. In fairness his wife was most likely right; he had humored Arya with her dance lessons, but it was the only way he could get Arya to stop sneaking out of her other lessons. “I said I would talk to them. How do the preparations go?” He changed the subject. 

Catelyn Stark sat across from him and sighed before giving him a tired smile. “I truly despise these trips, Ned.” 

“The cost is excessive.” Ned frowned as he looked at his ledger book. Every few years Robert and he took several months of the year to travel to the other's kingdom to discuss business. This year was Robert’s turn to visit Winterfell with the upcoming wedding. Ned wasn’t looking forward to this trip. Before Robert let out; he received a raven telling him about Jon Arryn’s death. The news of his surrogate father’s death saddened him, but the task of finding a new Hand of the Kings was not going to be easy. Jon Arryn was the Hand during Ned's entire reign. Finding a man that could handle the stress of balancing two kingdoms would not be easy. The royal party would be in Winterfell before long, so preparations were putting everybody on edge. “Is there anything else Cat?” 

“Sansa has asked if there has been another match made for her.” 

“I am still looking for a good match. Please send for Arya and Jon for me if you will.” He smiled at his wife. 

“Of course my king.” Ned watched his wife leave before returning to his work. Moments later there was another knock on his door. He had expected Jon or Arya to step in, but it was Robb. 

“Father” Robb peaked inside to see if he was busy. 

“Come in Robb. Have you finished with the stewards?” 

“Yes father,” Robb fell silent and stared at his hands. 

Ned knew his son needed to say something. “Is that all Robb?” 

His son sighed. “This marriage proposal father.” 

“Robb, it has been set for quite some time.” He understood his son’s nerves. 

“She is so young.” Robb whined looking like the youth that he was. 

“It is necessary to join our houses and her age will mean nothing once you are joined. She is a beautiful girl.” Robb looked up and smiled at those words. 

“I have not seen her in years.” 

“It is normal to be nervous about a wedding.” He smiled at his son and sighed when there was another knock on the door. “Please send your siblings in.”

“Yes Father.” Robb exited while Jon and Arya stepped inside. Arya plopped down in a chair while Jon remained standing. Arya’s hair was a tangled mess and her dress was covered in dirt from head to toe. Jon shifted uncomfortably. 

The noise in the hall distracted him briefly before he turned to his daughter. “I thought we had a deal Arya.” 

“We do; I finished my lessons.” Arya stared defiantly at him making him smile. 

“What am I going to do with you?” Jon smirked and looked down quickly. “Arya your mother is worried enough about King Robert’s visit. Don’t let her catch you playing with swords again.” Arya smiled catching her way out in his words. “Now behave and try to stay clean. Go wash up.” Arya walked around and kissed him on the cheek, before walking to the door heavily like she was in trouble. 

“Yes Father.” Was all Arya said as she shut the door behind her. 

Ned looked to Jon standing before him, a Stark in everything but name. The thought pained him. “How are her lessons coming?” 

“She is quick; in a one on one fight she would beat most.” Jon answered quickly. 

“You should learn to say no to her occasionally Jon. Maybe both of you would be in less trouble.” Jon tried not to smile. 

“Yes your grace.” Ned hated to hear those words from Jon’s mouth. Jon was his blood and the formalities society demanded made Jon a stranger to him at times. 

“Jon sit.” Jon slowly sank into the chair across from Ned. “Jon it’s time we talked about your future.” Jon shifted uncomfortably. “Robb will be married soon and I have yet to find a match for Sansa and Arya.” Jon frowned at the last name. “She can’t stay here forever.” 

“I know.” 

“Should I be looking for a match for you as well?” 

Jon looked up quickly. “I had thought of joining the Night’s Watch.” Ned paled slightly; the Watch was not what it used to be. 

“A noble cause, are you sure that is what you want. I could always use a good man to train and fight. I know there is an agreeable match out there for you.” He smiled at his son. 

“What woman would want a bastard, your grace? The watch is where I belong.” Jon kept his voice steady, but Ned heard the resentment when Jon said ‘bastard’. Ned longed to tell him who his mother truly was and that he was a prince, that had more right to a crown than any that wore one. However, his fear for Jon’s safety, and a promise he made prevented him from doing it. 

“We will speak more of this when Benjen arrives.” 

Jon’s face lit up with a smile. “Uncle Benjen is coming?” Ned knew that Jon admired his uncle a great deal. 

“Aye, he would never let me be alone with all of the Lannisters that are coming.” Ned smiled at his brothers words. The same words spoken every time Robert came to Winterfell. “Go clean up and try and help keep Arya out of trouble.” 

Jon stood and bowed slightly “Yes Father.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't sure i was going to post more than the original but there were some kind words that made me change my mind. I have several chapters written so i'll be putting them up. Thanks for reading i really love the reviews, kudos and watching the hit count climb it really strokes my ego. I really didn't expect them for my ramblings. Remember i have no idea where this is heading so i'm along for the ride the same as ya'll.

Chapter 2- Jon Snow

Jon stood behind his brothers and sisters, waiting for King Robert to ride in and greet his King father. Arya ran in late like she always did. His little sister shoved Bran aside and took her spot in line. Sansa and Queen Stark looked upset, but Jon's amusement was shared by his father and brothers. Robert Baratheon rode at the front of the procession. This time when the king went to dismount his horse, he didn't need assistance like he had in previous visits. King Robert had shrunk around the stomach.

The line continued to file into Winterfell. The normal faces accompanied King Robert except for one. A black haired man around his age stepped off of the horse behind the King, and grabbed the King's reins. King Robert slapped the man on the back and walked across the yard. Everyone was kneeling except the King in the North's family. "Ned" King Robert yelled hugging his father.

"Robert." Eddard smiled at his friend. Robert went down the line, commenting on each of the Stark children like he always did. Robert paled when he saw Arya. Jon shifted uncomfortably at the way Robert looked at Arya. It was as if the King was looking into the past.

When King Robert reached Rickon, he hollered over to Ned. "Where's the bastard?" Jon swallowed hard. His father was looking at him and the Queen's lips were in a tight line.

"Here your Grace." He stepped forward and bowed slightly, trying not to let his nerves show. King Robert never bothered with him before.

"Gendry!" Robert shouted over the crowd. The black haired man from earlier came quickly to the King's side.

"Your Grace." Gendry bowed.

"There now the Kings Bastards have met." Robert yelled, laughing with the rest of the crowd. Ned's brow furrowed. Jon never let his anger or embarrassment show on his face. Gendry's jaw was strung tight, glaring at King Robert. Before anything else could happen, Robert asked Ned to take him to the crypt.

"Where is the princess?" Jon asked no one, looking at his brother.

"The wheelhouse will be here shortly. The King was tired of waiting on it." Gendry answered, still standing next to him. The crowd began to scatter as soon as the Kings left.

"Jon Snow." He stuck his hand out to the other bastard. Jon was interested in meeting King Robert's claimed bastard, from the time he heard about him. He was the only royal bastard for so long, knowing there was another person like him made things slightly more bearable.

"Gendry… Waters I guess." The two shook hands. Theon laughed as he walked towards Robb.

"I best get to stabling the horses." Jon said, wanting to find something to do other than stand there and let people stare. To his surprise Gendry followed him and started helping. Jon glanced at Gendry, curious as to why he would help, bastard or not he was a guest.

"I might as well help with this mess." Was all Gendry said when he caught Jon looking at him. Jon and Gendry silently stabled all the horses and put up the tack. "Is there a forge?" Gendry asked, looking hopeful.

"I'll show you later. Gendry what is that?" Jon watched as assortments of colorful tents were assembled, just outside the walls of Winterfell.

Gendry let out a humorless laugh. "Robert's whores."

"Father will not like that."

"He might part of it. It's a traveling entertainment group. We ran into north of Riverrun. They have one of every kind of woman a man could want. Plus the shows are truly amazing." Jon stared at the tents for awhile, trying to catch a glimpse of the women working around the camp.

"Come on the wheelhouse approaches." Gendry pulled him from his thoughts.

"Time to see my brother's bride." Jon said calmly, even though he hated that he would lose his brother as soon as he was married.

"Princess Myrcella is a sweet girl. I hope your brother takes care of her." Gendry seemed angry about the marriage. Arya shoved past them on her way to the yard.

"Arya." Jon yelled to his sister, failing to hide his amusement.

Arya's skirt swirled around her as she turned. "What?"

"What's wrong little sister?"

"They made me change again. It was not my fault it rained last night and it was not my fault that stupid dress tripped me. What are you laughing at?" Arya glared at Gendry, who was trying not to laugh and failing.

Jon smirked at how uncomfortable Gendry grew under Arya's icy gaze. "Arya, this is Gendry."

"The King's bastard." Arya stated flatly. Both Jon and Gendry looked at the ground. Jon was truly disappointed in his sister for saying those words. "My favorite people are bastards." Arya said before she smiled and ran away. Gendry's eyes followed Arya until she disappeared.

"She's… different." Gendry said, after nothing but shocked silence.

Jon laughed at the look on Gendry's face. "You have no idea." The lines where formed by the time the wheelhouse pulled into the yard. Jon could see his brother's nervous movements and wished he could pat Robb on the back to calm his nerves. Queen Cersei said a few cold words to Robb, and ignored everyone else. Princess Myrcella followed her mother through the line. Robb stared at the girl everywhere she went. Jon could see the hand behind Robb's back tremble when he kissed the princess' hand.

The lords and ladies followed the royal parties into the dinning hall. Jon saw his Uncle Benjen sitting at the main table with his father. Not for the first time, he wished he was a Stark. "Mind if I sit?" Gendry asked, standing next to him at the table near the end of the room.

"Sure, the Queen doesn't let you join them either." Jon asked, as Gendry sat down.

Gendry turned to him and screwed up his face. "The table of honor is no place for a bastard." Gendry mimicked Queen Cersei's voice making Jon laugh.

"At least I'm not the only one anymore." Jon said quietly.

"At least your father kept you." Gendry tipped back his wine glass.  
"You are here." Jon hadn't been able to talk with anyone about being a bastard like he was talking with Gendry. They simply would not understand.

"Because of your father, he came into the forge last time he was in King's landing. A couple of days later I'm dressed up and named a King's bastard; like it's any different from being a regular bastard. Well the food is better." Gendry smiled as he took a huge bite of mutton. "I miss the forge though. I don't get to work like I used too. Robert is teaching me to fight at least." Gendry was at ease with everything around him. It made Jon a little jealous of how easily Gendry dealt with everything. The meal was winding down. Jon and Gendry continued to talk about being bastards and life experiences.

"Does the talk bother you?" Jon asked well into his wine.

"No I've always been a bastard. It's what I am not who I am; a Lannister told me that." The men around them started pounding on the tables, yelling for a show. Gendry smiled crookedly. "You will like this." The tables were moved against the walls, and the benches were set on top of them so men could see the floor. Gendry pulled him on top of the tables, so they would have a seat.

"What's going on?" Nothing like this happened at Winterfell before today.

"It is time for a show." A small man in bright clothes walked down the cleared space, where moments before the tables were. The man kneeled before King Robert and King Eddard. The room went quiet as the small man started to speak.

"Your Grace and Your Grace."

King Stark interrupted. "I told you no women inside my walls." Ned Stark left the brothel in Wintertown open, but the women were not allowed inside the walls of Winterfell.

"Of course Your Grace, they are outside your walls. The women I have with me now are not common whores but performers. Using the magics of old, they are here to merely entertain. Should your men choose; there will be women waiting outside your walls." Jon saw his father glance around the room.

"What harm could a show do Ned?" King Robert encouraged in slurred speech. Ned nodded to the little man. Jon could tell that he was not entirely happy about the show but allowed it for his men. Except for a few serving girl,s the Ladies had all turned in for the night.

"Gentlemen" The little man shouted over the crowd. "From the furthest corners of the world, the Summer Isles, Lys, Pentos, and even Valaria, I bring you magic." Four women walked into the room in single file. They formed a circle in the center of the room, and sat down cross legged, and linked arms. Every woman wore a different color, with all their faces veiled. The men in the room watched quietly, as the women slowly started to sway to an unknown rhythm.

A blond woman stood when soft music started to play. The sheer, green fabric ghosted over the woman's body, leaving little to the imagination. Jon was losing himself in the woman's movements, when a brown haired, bronze skinned woman in blue stood to join the first woman in the dance. Green vines wound around the woman in green with each movement. The blond's skin shimmered like water. When the third woman with dark black hair stood, wearing translucent white, a strange wind began to blow inside the hall. The women weaved and wound around each other. Every man in the room watched as the three women fell to the floor when the music stopped.

The fourth woman stood. The light black fabric fell from her shoulders, revealing a pretty, petite, auburn beauty with fair skin, wearing a form fitting leather top and breeches. Three heavy drums shook the room and she started to move. Her hips slowly circled with the beat. Her arms wound around themselves and started to glow orange. Fire curled around her body as the beat of the drums accelerated. The horns and stringed instruments joined the drums as the other women danced around the flames, making them die down. The music stopped and the men cheered loudly. The dance lasted quite some time but seemed to end too quickly.

Gendry patted him on the back. "Those women are something. I've seen 'em several times and it always amazes me." The women were walking around the room talking to the men, except for the one dressed like a warrior.

"Do they do another show?" Jon asked full of hope. Gendry laughed.

"Not like that. Usually they just get the men all worked up and send them to the tents." Jon glanced at his father on his throne. The women were led to the kings by the short man in bright clothing. "They serve good wine in the tent." Gendry smiled, as if he already knew where Jon wanted to go. The women bowed respectfully.

"That was a lovely show." His father complemented with a nod of his head.

"It would be better in bed!" Robert roared loudly, making the men laugh. Three of the women bowed to King Robert the fourth didn't.

"That's not good." Gendry said as he stood to walk to the front of the hall.

"You refuse to bow to your king!" Robert yelled loudly. The woman stood quietly, as the small man spoke angrily in another language. When the man finished speaking the woman turned to King Robert.

"You are not my king." She spun on her heel and walked to the back of the room before slipping out the door. The little man paled and started spouting apologies.

"Your Grace my apologies she is from another world; she does not understand." The little man looked terrified.

"Have my tent ready. I grow tired of this." Robert ordered and walked away. There was a collective sigh as the door closed behind him. The Baratheon fury was unpredictable at the best of times. Ned excused himself to retire for the evening.

"That was tense." Robb walked over to Jon and Gendry.

"She's the Valyrian Queen the men talk about. She is one of the few you can't buy." Gendry glanced between Jon and Robb.

"Valaria was destroyed during the Doom." Robb said, reciting the lessons Maester Luwin repeated from the time they were boys.

"Perhaps, but you saw magic yourself tonight." Gendry added not convinced.

"Tricks of the eye, magic has not been around since the Children of the Forest." Jon tired not to laugh at his brother's denials.

"Neither were direwolves." Jon answered with a small smile. The wolf pups had surprised and unsettled so many people. Since King Robert's arrival the pups were locked in the kennel, so they didn't scare the southerners.

"I'm going to turn in for the night." Robb informed Jon, who shifted uncomfortably.

"I think I'm going to visit the tents." Robb looked at Jon in disbelief and glared at Gendry. Jon could tell his brother wanted to go as well, but thought better of it because of his upcoming wedding.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay this story has a rough plot now! I'm not sure how long this is going to be knowing me it won't be too short. I have a hard time keeping things short. Thanks for the comments, and kudos. It means a lot I love hearing what people think especially on this. I was scared to do something set in GRRM's world because he does it brilliantly i didn't want to play with his master piece. Also random question for international readers if any: American's find foreign accents extremely attractive. Do ya'll find the American accent attractive. This is just for curiosity sake. I won't take offense I just really want to know.

Chapter 3- Gendry Waters

Gendry followed Jon to the tents. He could tell Jon didn’t know what to expect, as they filed into the large tent and found a spot at the tables to sit. Robb had reluctantly excused himself much to Gendry’s relief. The Prince was to marry his sweet, shy, half sister and he would have been furious if the man treated her with anything but respect. Myrcella was the first of his new family to accept him, even against her mother’s wishes. Tommen followed soon after her. He had really grown to care about the young prince and princess. 

Jon on puzzled him at times. There was no doubt that Jon's siblings cared for him, but the man acted like the world was on his shoulders. He shrugged it off; because, he was honestly curious about the King in the North’s bastard. Gendry had no idea what it meant to grow up in the royal court. The three years he had been there had a quick learning curve. Very few people wanted him around, so he learned to keep his head down and learn as much as he could while he could. 

There were several women walking around the tent, bringing drinks to the men. Every one of them was unique in some way and more than a few of them were wearing clothes that could be seen straight through. The sweet wine in his cup went down smoothly, as he and his companion sat in comfortable silence looking around. 

“You goin’ to get you one?” Gendry finally asked Jon, who was eying the women. 

Jon took a long pull of wine. “No, I just wanted to see.” 

The booming laughter from the back of the tent could only belong to his father. Several giggling women came from a flap and Robert stepped out, pulling a robe around himself. The Kingsguard, that stood at the sides of the flap, followed King Robert as he walked across the room. Unfortunately, Robert came straight to his table and sat across from him and Jon. 

“Wine!” Robert yelled over the noisy crowd. “You find one you want yet? I’ve fucked them all you can’t go wrong.” Robert laughed and pulled a girl into his lap. 

“Just drinkin’ Your Grace.” Gendry answered quickly. Since he had been claimed by the king, Robert spent his time trying to get Gendry to drink and whore with him. 

“What about you? Surely Ned Stark’s bastard has found something he likes here.” Robert laughed as Jon shifted uncomfortably. 

“No your grace, I just wanted to try the wine.” Jon answered with his eyes down. The dancers from earlier walked through the main tent. Gendry watched as Jon’s eyes followed the women through the room. 

The king laughed loudly. “There is something you like.” Robert yelled over the crowd to the girls handler, who came immediately. He couldn’t hear what his father was saying but, King Robert kept looking their way and laughing. The King disappeared into his private room again, along with several other women leaving them in peace. 

“At least he didn’t have the women surround us.” Gendry said after a quick drink. 

“He has done that?” Jon was on another mug of wine. The wine was stronger than either of them were used to drinking. 

“You’re not a man until you’ve fucked a hundred women and killed a thousand men.” Gendry repeated the words Robert said time and time again. 

“There’s not very men in this world then.” Jon said, making Gendry laugh. 

A beautiful blond woman approached them, bringing two more mugs of the strong sweet wine. “Your tent is ready, milords.” The blond bowed to them. 

“We don’t have no tent.” Gendry took the mug from her. 

“The King insists milords.” 

Gendry looked at Jon and stood up shrugging. There was no good that came from going against the kings word. He had tried and ended up being scolded like a child. The large tent they were in had small entryways to smaller tents. Jon and Gendry wound through the men and women until they reached a small tent with two padded areas to sit. Three women from the show entered, bringing fine wine and exotic food. When the soft music started to play from outside of the tent the women started dancing. The movements of their hips were seductive and hypnotic. Gendry glanced over and saw Jon was just as entranced as he was. 

The fourth woman stumbled into the tent as if she was pushed, making the women stop dancing. Jon moved quickly to her side. Gendry saw the blood flowing from a gash in her head. “She needs a maester.” Jon glanced back at him.

“Where done here.” Gendry ordered, making the women huddle around each other. “What is your name?” He asked the girl, who refused to look at either one of them. Gendry grabbed her shoulder, and a cold blade was pressed quickly to his neck. The girl chattered in a language he didn’t know, but the blade remained firmly against him. Jon shifted into the woman’s line of sight. 

“We mean you no harm. We want to help; you are hurt.” The woman’s silver eyes showed recognition. The tip of the blade did not move. 

“He’s telling the truth. Let us take you to a maester. You’re bleedin.” Gendry tried one more time to convince the woman. 

“You cannot hurt the dead.” Was the only thing she said before the blade fell from sight. 

“Please come with me.” Jon asked, and the girl nodded compliantly. “I’ll take her to the maester.” 

It was probably better if he didn't go; the woman seemed to be more comfortable with Jon. “Be careful.” Something about the way the woman moved put him on edge. 

Jon led the woman outside. Gendry finished the wine and stared at the flap in the tent. He had been happy in the forge making metal sing. Who his father was, hadn’t crossed his mind since he was a boy, finding out who his father was and being claimed turned his world upside down. People expected him to answer questions, and he had to learn to look lords and ladies in the eye. He was still a bastard but a king’s bastard, not a commoner that was shoved into a corner and ignored. No body ignored him anymore. 

Gendry started to wander within the walls of Winterfell. There were no sleeping quarters around the forge, so he went inside. The fire in the forge he found was dying but the embers still burned. His fingers itched to pick up the hammer again. The billows sat to the side of the fire. He pumped them, making the angry embers glow. That was all it took for him to grab the raw material stacked in the corner. With the first note of the steel, he was lost in his work. Time passed, but Gendry didn’t notice. The sun peaked above the horizon, when he finally woke from his trance. The blank blade shimmered beautifully in the sunlight. 

Gendry set the blade on the table, when the clicking of wooden practice swords drew him outside. Princess Arya was dancing around a foreign man who was calling out instructions. The princess was graceful in her movements. Every move was practiced and precise. Her long brown hair in her braid was escaping in a messy halo around her. Gendry couldn’t look away; in all of his years, he had never seen a woman like Princess Arya Stark. 

Even in a large tunic and breeches, he could see the subtle curves of a young woman. “She’s good.” Jon’s voice made him jump. Guilt flooded through him. He was a bastard and had no right to be looking at, let alone thinking about, the princess like he was. 

“Yes, what is it?” 

“Braavosi water dance, father thought it suited her better.” Jon answered without looking at him. The two of them watched her fight for several moments. Gendry noticed that Jon watched Arya with a small smile. His new friend truly loved his sister. Arya noticed Jon as soon as she was dismissed from the lesson “JON!” Arya ran up and jumped in Jon’s arms. 

“You are up early little sister.” Jon teased as he sat her down and messed up her hair further. Gendry caught himself looking at her lips and quickly looked down. 

“Mother said I couldn’t practice while the king was around, but he is sleeping now.” Arya’s smile threatened to take his breath away. 

“You remember Gendry.” Jon turned the attention to him. 

“Milady” He said with a slight bow. 

Arya glared at him. “Don’t call me that!” Jon laughed. 

“My apologies milady, you are a very skilled dancer.” 

Arya’s eyes blazed with fire. Gendry fought the urge to burst out laughing. “Aye, dancing with steel and I’m better than most men.” 

“Men are better at fighting than dancing.” He couldn’t see how the tiny little girl could match up with a knights form of fighting. She would be cut clean in two. Gendry stilled from the look the Princess was giving him. The fire in her eyes made his chest tighten. 

“What is that supposed to mean?” Gendry looked to Jon, who only smirked not willing to help him out of his tight spot. 

“It’s just that a Braavosi doesn’t stand a chance against a knight.” Arya shifted her weight and crossed her arms over her chest. 

“You are stupid. I will prove it to you tomorrow morning; meet me here.” 

“And fight you?” Gendry’s voice cracked at the idea. He couldn’t fight the princess; he would hurt her. 

“Yes stupid.” Arya glared at him again. “I have to go before mother catches me.” Arya spun around; he watched her until she left. 

“Good Luck.” Jon clapped him on the back laughing. Gendry knew he was in trouble and not just because of the challenge.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4- Robb Stark

The royal family was at the table of honor. Princess Myrcella smiled shyly at him when he came to break his fast. Robb inclined his head respectfully in recognition. His father had told him that age didn't matter, but his youngest sister was the same age; he couldn't get that thought out of his head. Robb forced himself to eat. Normally men of his age were married by now; but because he was a prince, his father allowed all of the Stark children to age well past what was considered normal.

Jon wasn't present to break their fast like he normally was. He wished his brother was there; the two of them had always been close, despite his mother's objections. Jon and King Robert's bastard walked in and sat at the table farthest from him. A feeling he wasn't used to filled him when he heard Jon laughing; he never had to share Jon's friendship before.

"Are you Robb?" Sansa asked him a second time.

"Am I what Sansa?" Robb pulled his attention from the back of the room to look at his sister.

"Taking the Princess for a tour of Winterfell, Father said you should." Sansa looked at him expecting him to say yes.

Robb took a bite of food and thought about his answer. He knew what was expected of him and it didn't really matter what he wanted. "I will ask her later." Robb answered, making Sansa giggle. The betrothal had been in place for six years. As soon as the Princess came of age they were to be married. Myrcella was a beautiful girl but a complete stranger. He didn't know how he was supposed to get to know her; when she barely said two words to him.

Robb glanced one more time at Jon and turned quickly to finish his meal. Being a Prince never bothered Robb before now. The North was not as strict on the court customs as the South was. He was allowed to enjoy his youth, between learning to run a kingdom at least. Seeing Jon laughing at the end of the room, while he had to do his duty to the kingdom, was not easy for him to accept.

Robb stood and pushed his troubled thoughts aside before walking to Princess Myrcella's side and bowing. "My lady would you care to join me for a tour of the grounds?" He asked in with a charming smile. Queen Cersei's eyes narrowed at him. Robb heard Sansa giggle behind him and a faint 'Arya shut up' which threatened to make him laugh.

"Yes my lord." Myrcella answered quietly, as she stood and walked to his side. Robb extended his elbow, and the princess lightly laid her hand on his arm. The couple slowly walked outside of the dinning hall. Robb was aware that every eye was on them as they exited.

A member of the Kinsguard followed several paces behind to give them some privacy. Robb kept glancing over his shoulder, uneasy with their shadow. The Starks didn't have a Kingsguard inside the walls of Winterfell. Of course, a guard would accompany them if they left the castle, but that was normal for noble men or women. Robb liked the warmth of Myrcella's touch, but his mind warred with his feelings. Myrcella was a beautiful girl, there was no doubt; he couldn't help but focus on the girl like qualities instead of the woman she was becoming.

Robb escorted her through the castle grounds; the conversation was forced and more often quiet than not. Myrcella wouldn't hold his gaze, and the only thing she would say was 'yes or no my lord'. Robb remained polite as a lord and prince should, but dread was starting to suffocate him. Spending the rest of his life with the Princess would be truly horrible if his lady to be could not complete an entire sentence. "Over here is the kennels. We have some of the finest hunting dogs in the North and this is where we keep our wolves as well."

"Wolves?" Myrcella looked up at him through her eyelashes and kept his gaze.

Robb smiled truly for the first time on the tour. "Aye our Direwolves. There is one for each of the Stark children."

The princess squeezed his arm and smiled back. "Can I see them?" Her voice was quiet but Robb knew her interest was sincere.

"Aye, you can Princess." Robb patted her hand on his arm and stepped forward. The princess didn't follow.

Myrcella looked around before looking at him. "Could you call me Myrcella, my lord?" Her green eyes were looking straight at him; it was the boldest he had seen her with anyone.

Robb glanced around to see what she was looking for. There was nobody around them. "Only if you call me Robb, there are far too many Princes and Lords around here." Robb winked at her making her giggle quietly. Robb dismissed the kennel master Farlen and Palla so they could mess with the wolves. Myrcella hung back slightly as they came to the spot where the wolves were being kept.

Shaggydog lunged forward and hit the end of his tether. Myrcella backed away and Ser Arys Oakheart went to pull his sword. "That is not necessary, Ser. That is Rickon's wolf. My brother is too young to train him properly so he is a bit wild. My mother insists that they are one and the same. Please stay here Myrcella while I get my wolf." Robb left Myrcella standing at the iron gate as he went to retrieve Greywind. He watched her face as he approached expecting to see fear, but only saw awe.

Greywind pulled at the leather tether to try and reach the princess before he called his wolf outside of the kennel and made him stay. Ser Arys put himself between the wolf and the princess. "It's alright Myrcella he will not hurt you." Myrcella slowly walked up next to him. Robb knelt down next to her. "Stick your hand out and let him sniff you." The princess did as she was told. "Greywind to me." Ser Arys kept his hand on the pommel of his sword. Robb gently held onto the princess' wrist; he could feel the slight tremble as the wolf grew closer, but she didn't pull away. "He will not hurt you. I promise." Greywind sniffed her hand and the princess smiled when his wolf pushed his head into her hand, allowing her to scratch his head.

"He his beautiful." Myrcella said strongly. Robb felt he was starting to see who she was instead of what she was.

"I think he likes you." Myrcella giggled when Greywind pushed closer, sending Robb the rest of the way to the ground.

"Tommen would love them." Robb barely heard her words.

"Maybe he can join us some time."

Myrcella smiled brightly down at him still scratching Greywind. "Really? I'm going to miss him terribly." The smile fell from her face and turned to terror. "I'm so sorry my lord. I should not have said that."

Robb looked at her confused. "You do not need to apologize for missing your brother Myrcella." The Princess looked at him shyly but didn't say any more. Farlan came back to put up Greywind. Robb finished the tour of Winterfell with her, but the conversation returned to the awkward two word answers.

When he left the Myrcella with Queen Cersei, he immediately went in search of his brother. Jon was in the training yard, like he normally was, but instead of a dummy, King Robert's bastard was sparring with him. Robb walked to the yard and watched with a few of Winterfell's guards. Gendry was decent with a sword but Jon was better. It seemed like Gendry relied too much on strength. The blows Jon did take looked punishing and it didn't tire out Gendry.

Jon dodged quickly and disarmed Gendry, making him yield. Jon extended his hand to help the other man up. Robb hated feeling jealous of his brother's new friend. There were many times in his life that he wished he was the bastard and Jon was the prince. He wanted to go to the training yard and spar all day, but he had to attend to stewards, sit in on meetings, and marry even though he didn't want a wife yet.

"Robb" Jon saw him and started walking over to him. "Did you enjoy your walk?' Jon smirked.

Robb glanced at Gendry wondering how close he was with his half siblings. "Yes" Jon smiled truly, those smiles were rare from Jon. Gendry walked up and stood right next to Jon. "You fight well Gendry."

"Thank you my lord, but I'm better with a hammer." Robb nodded. Brute strength would suit Gendry better than grace and precision.

"Would you care to go again?" Robb asked Gendry.

"If you wish my lord." Gendry walked back to the training yard, as Robb shed his cloak and donned some light armor to deflect the blows. Gendry attacked first. He was right the hits were hard. They danced around the yard blocking and lunging. Jon and Theon watched from the edge. He knew he was a better swordsman than Gendry, but his opponent was a quick learner. The sweat was pouring down his back, and every attack made his arms ache. Robb finally gained the advantage on Gendry and made him yield. By the end he realized Jon had been holding back on him when they fought. The thought angered him; his brother would train all out versus a stranger but not his own brother. "Well fought my lord."

"You as well Gendry." Jon and Theon joined them when they reached the side of the yard making room for others sparring.

"Not bad is he brother? Gendry has only been wielding a sword for three years." Robb nodded, remembering that that King Robert's bastard had only been claimed for three years now.

"You coming to the tent tonight? Jon said the wine is good and the view is better." Jon gave Theon a look that said he never said such a thing. Robb looked to Gendry again. He wondered if he would tell the princess if he went.

"The wine is good my lord and there is sometimes a show. You don't have to take a woman for the night." Gendry answered as if he understood Robb's hesitation.

"I would like to try the wine." All four of them had a good laugh at that before cleaning up the training yard and them themselves before heading to the tents that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting this chapter a week early while i'm editing the next Chapter of Different Kind of Knight. Thanks to robbmyrcella for posting this on tumblr. It made my day! I'm sorry to the Jon x Arya lovers but that will most likely not happen. I love the two together but as brother and sister relationship and not the Cersei Jamie kind. I know the chapters are short but these are just ramblings to keep me writing, they will probably grow as i get more direction within the story.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the reviews I love hearing what ya'll think. If you have any ideas on something you'd like to see or have happen on this I'm happy to hear them. I'm pretty open to letting this story go where ever it needs to. It's been quite fun to just let everything flow without a set outline. Definitely a learning experience not letting myself over analyze or over edit. Usually half of what i write gets cut out. I own nothing just playing with this awesome world.

Chapter 5- Ned Stark

Ned paced in his bed chamber. Catelyn was sitting up in their bed, watching him pace with a small smile. "I don't remember him being so infuriating." Ned was dealing with Robert for the past week now. Catelyn smiled at him from underneath the furs.

"I believe you are just less tolerant of him now Ned. Neither of you are boys anymore." Ned smiled at the patience in his wife's voice. Catelyn's hair was flowing lose around her pale shoulders; he had always loved her hair.

"He wants to wed Sansa to Joffrey, my love."

Catelyn raised an eyebrow. "She would be Queen."

"In the South yes, but a match has been proposed for Prince Quentyn of Dorne. They do not love the Starks nor the Baratheons but a match could mend old wounds." Ned spent many years in his bed chambers discussing matters of the Kingdom. As King, he made the final decision, but his wife's opinion was always taken into consideration, especially when the children were involved.

"It is a good match." Catelyn had no objections to the Prince.

"Aye, our houses will be joined already; are two marriages necessary?"

"There is that." Ned knew his wife was humoring his late night ramblings. "Come to bed my love, and remember you can say no to him."

Ned only smiled and pulled off his tunic to join his wife in bed. In his visits to the Godswood, he made sure to thank the old Gods for a woman as good as his lady wife. The warmth of the room always threatened to suffocate him, but his wife still needed the warmth. A southerners blood never ran warm enough to truly enjoy the North, but Catelyn came close.

The next morning he walked around the castle. The mornings were quiet in Winterfell, even with the party from King's Landing. Morning was his favorite time to walk the grounds; he walked the walls as a boy as well. The guards stood at relaxed attention near the gates, when he walked by they straightened up and bowed. He had never truly gotten used to the formality. Ned walked along the stairways up to the top of the walls surrounding Winterfell. The women's colorful tents lay silent below the walls, just outside of the gate. He still didn't care to have them there, but his men's happiness overrode his objections. He continued to walk the walls of the castle. The walkway followed the wall, giving a view from all sides of the castle. Near the south entrance was a raised tower; the men nicknamed the crows nest long ago.

A flash of bright fabric, from the top of the crows nest, caught his attention. The bright colors were not something that was native to the North. It set off an alarm within him. Ice was not on his body, so he pulled the dirk he kept on his belt. There was only one way in or out, and that was up the narrow staircase. Ned slowly followed the twisting stairs, until he came to the narrow landing at the top with windows on all four sides. The woman shifted quickly when he reached the top and almost fell but he caught her arm. The woman looked him straight in the eye. There was no fear, even though he had a blade in one hand and could simply let go and send her to her death. Ned found it strange, but pushed the thought aside temporarily. There was a large book clutched to the woman's chest. "What are you doing here?" His voice was stern; he suddenly realized he remembered the woman; she was from the dance performance from the feast. She was the woman that Robert had been furious with; the same one that Jon had brought to Maester Luwin.

"Looking your Grace." Ned pulled her in so she wouldn't fall and let go of her arm. Her hands were covered in black coal as they clutched the book.

"Let me see." Ned said calmly as he gestured to the book. He had dealt with spies before, and none of them had been so bold to him when caught. The woman looked behind her at the fall beneath her. He thought she was going to step off, but she reluctantly handed him the book. Ned opened to the back of the large book to a nearly empty page. There was the beginnings of a sketch started, a sketch of Winterfell. "Who are you spying for?" Ned put ice into his words, which usually made grown men flinch. The woman did not.

The girl looked at him confused; he briefly wondered how much of his language she spoke. "Not spy your grace, remember."

Ned looked at the other pages in the book. The girl could draw quite well. There were different places and people. "Remember what?" Ned didn't soften his voice; he couldn't afford to be weak.

"Remember here, It is beautiful." Ned glanced through the book again. The sketches were good and detailed but hardly tactical. From their vantage point the hardest part of the castle to penetrate was what she was drawing.

"How did you get up here?" The woman, Mollen, he remembered her name from the visit to the Maester, turned and pointed to a spot on his wall.

"I climbed" Her words were broken with the foreign language.

Ned's eyebrow went up. "You climbed my walls?"

"Yes your grace." The girl hugged the book when he handed it back to her.

"Don't leave here before I have seen what you have drawn." Ned was convinced she wasn't spying, but he had to be careful. He had to make sure that the guards kept an eye on her.

Mollen just nodded and sat back down opening her book. He watched her for a few moments before turning to leave. "Your Grace?" Ned turned to face her once again. "Does it snow often here?"

Ned couldn't help but chuckle at the hope in her voice. It made her sound almost child like. "Quite often." Ned turned to leave but was stopped by her voice again.

"Even this time of year." The girl was watching him again; there was something different about her that unsettled him.

"Aye, even this time of year." Ned turned to leave.

Mollen spoke softly, as if she spoke to herself, as she started to draw again. "I have never seen snow."

He hoped that the girl would get to see some snow while she was in the North. Ned told the guards to keep an eye on the girl, but to leave her be when he reached the bottom of the tower. He descended the stairs to the ground and caught a glimpse of his eldest boys and Gendry walking from the tents. Ned hurried the rest of the way down to intercept the young men. He told Robb to stay away from the tents, but hadn't thought it necessary to tell Jon. "Did you sleep well?" Ned asked from behind, making the boys jump. None of them looked at him, their gazes remained firmly on the ground.

"We just had the wine your grace." To his surprise, Jon was the first to speak.

"In a traveling brothel, you just had wine." He remembered what it was like to be young. It was easy to lose ones self when pretty woman were involved.

"Yes father. The sweet wine is good." Robb looked up at him before dropping his head again.

"The heir to the North does not need to be seen in a brothel, especially when his bride to be waits in his castle for their wedding."

"Yes father." Robb shifted again. "But King Robert insisted we stay." Ned's brow furrowed. Robert wasn't exactly a good role model anymore.

"Gendry" The mirror image of a young Robert looked up at him. He would hate for Gendry to travel down the same path as Robert; it was a waste of a good man if he did. "It may be easy to fall into your father's habits, but I thought you were a better man than that." Gendry's face turned red. He remembered when Robert would get angry in their youth; he looked exactly the same, only Gendry could hold his tongue when angered. Ned suppressed a smile at the old memory. "You may speak freely."

"I could never be like him, drinking and fucking. I like the wine and the shows, that's all your grace." Ned nodded he wasn't proud of his boys, but he believed what they said. They would have been far more embarrassed if they had done anything more.

"Go get cleaned up before the rest of the castle wakes." Ned walked outside the gates towards the main tent. There were men passed out on tables and barely clothed women lounging on soft cushions. The tent to the side was much smaller but more lavishly decorated. Fine silks of many colors covered the bed. Three women lay in bed with a snoring Robert. "Leave" Ned's voice rang through the tent, startling the sleeping occupants. Robert stirred cussing as the women pulled cloth around them and hurried out.

"Damnit Ned, why would you wake me so early." Robert grumbled and fumbled for the cask of wine.

"A private tent for my sons?" Ned questioned fiercely.

"Come off it Ned. They are grown men and grown men drink and fuck." Robert threw the empty cask across the room and cussed.

"Robb is to be wed." Ned barely contained anger threatened to come out.

"All the more reason to enjoy the tents." Robert yelled for more wine, and a young girl ran into the room with it.

"Sansa is promised to Prince Quentyn of Dorne. I can not break it nor will I. It is a good match that will maintain peace." Ned changed the subject, knowing he couldn't continue talking with Robert about his sons without losing his temper.

"And surround King's Landing." Robert spit out angrily.

Ned sighed; Robert's crown was making him paranoid. "I have no interest in King's Landing old friend, only peace. The Greyjoys have been active again and I fear another rebellion."

"Let the fuckin Greyjoys rebel. We take the head of his only son and set sail and take his." Ned rubbed his temples. Robert had always jumped into battle so easily. The thought of taking Theon's head pained him. The boy had grown up with his children. Killing Theon would hurt his son, and the boy would only be guilty of being a Greyjoy. The worst part was, that he would have to take the boys head if there was another Greyjoy rebellion; that was the purpose behind taking a hostage.

"About the position on Hand of the Kings, who did you have in mind?" Ned had been trying to get Robert to discuss the issue since the second day they arrived.

"Tywin Lannister." Robert stated simply

He had a feeling that was who he was going to suggest that man. "I do not want Tywin in the North."

"Who else could it be? Tywin knows the job. I can't run the whole bloody kingdom myself." Ned wanted to laugh; he ran his kingdom fine by himself. Jon would visit occasionally to make sure things ran in tandem, but mostly Lord Arryn stayed in King's Landing communicating by raven.

"What of Stannis?"

"Stannis! Surely you jest Ned." Robert yelled. Robert had underestimated his younger brother for far too long. Stannis was stern but he was fair and did what was necessary. He was growing tired of Robert already, it was time to cut the meeting short before he lost his temper.

"I do not jest Robert. We will speak on this later; there is still plenty of time and this is an important decision." Robert pulled the covers over him and laid back down in the bed. Ned walked out and back to his castle. There was most likely going to be some angry words said before they came to a decision on the new Hand.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6- Jon Snow

In his opinion the royal party form the South had long ago worn out its welcome. Except for Gendry, wherever his new friend went, he seemed to make friends. Robb was still cold to Gendry at times and Theon was his smug self, but it was nice having a friend that understood what his life was like. Queen Catelyn had heard of Arya's challenge to Gendry, and kept Arya under constant watch. His little sister was furious, even her dance lessons were put aside.

Jon hated seeing Arya so upset, so he had decided to act on an idea that might cheer her up. "Thought I would find you here."

Gendry looked up from his work and smiled. "Your smith told me I could use the forge whenever I wanted."

"And you have moved in I see. Mikken says you do fine work." Jon walked around, looking at what Gendry was working on.

"Born to swing the hammer." Gendry mumbled and hammered at the metal briefly.

"I need you to make me something." Jon finally said when it grew quieter.

Gendry stopped tinkering with his work and looked up. "I'm not a true smith Jon, just an apprentice."

"I know but I doubt Mikken would do it for me. Have you ever seen a Braavosi blade?"

"A few, the ships bring a few Braavosi into King's Landing."

"I need a small one."

Gendry snorted. "What would you do with a Braavosi blade?" Jon waited as Gendry thought. "Princess Arya?" Gendry questioned.

"Aye, she is upset. The Queen will not let her leave her room."

"I can make her a blade, but I need to know how wide her hand is. The pommel is different."

"I'll get it for you." Gendry nodded and picked up his hammer again. Jon left knowing that Gendry wouldn't be done for quite some time. The forge was what the training yard was for him to Gendry; it was where they escaped everything. The training yard was empty at the early hour, except for a few small boys. Jon decided to walk the grounds. He always liked to walk around the surrounding walls of Winterfell. During his wandering, he spotted a form sitting high up in the crow's nest. When he reached the top he saw Mollen, dangling her feet over the edge. Jon went back to the tents after they had ran into his father, only they made sure they left the tents before the morning. Every time Mollen had fresh bruises and cuts. "What are you doing up here?" He questioned.

Mollen didn't turn around, and she kept doing whatever she was doing. "Drawing"

Jon walked up behind her and looked over her shoulder. Winterfell was in the center of the large page and rough sketches of his family were surrounding the castle. "The King will not like."

Mollen cut him off. "The King knows I draw here." Jon sat on the opposite side of the opening and looked at her as she drew. "Your wolf is hungry." Mollen said into the silence.

"How do you know?" He watched her as she paused in her sketching to look at him.

"You do not feel it?"

"Why would I?" Mollen's foreignness sometimes put him on edge.

She turned and looked at him like he was slow. "You are one." Mollen crossed her legs underneath her as she faced him before returning to her drawing.

"What do you mean?" Jon heard himself say, while he wondered how she wasn't cold in her thin dress.

Mollen looked directly at him. "The same magic that runs through my blood, runs through yours."

She was crazy, that was what put him on edge. He laughed at her. "I cannot start fires."

"Magic is different in people." Jon wanted to laugh at her again, but the look on her face wouldn't allow it. She seemed to be serious. He wasn't entirely sure what she did was magic and not merely a trick of the eye. Jon glanced at what he could see of her sketches, unsure of what he could say. He noticed that most of his family was there, all but him. "Do you dream?"

"Everybody dreams." He said noncommittally at the random question.

Mollen didn't look up. "Wolf dreams" Jon froze; he had been dreaming he was a wolf and not just any wolf, Ghost. He told no one about them. Mollen looked up, after he was silent for too long, and smiled. The split on her lip cracked and blood trickled down her jaw. Jon reached out; she flinched away from him but allowed him to wipe the blood away.

"Why do you stay if he hurts you?" He realized he was changing the subject, but the talk of magic was uncomfortable.

"You can't hurt the dead Jon Snow." That was the first time that she had called him by his name.

"You are not dead yet Mollen." The look that crossed her face was the saddest he had ever seen.

"I am, but that is not why I stay. I gave my word and my word is my bond." He could understand that, but hated the way they treated her. No one deserved to be beat like that.

"Can I see?" He motioned towards her sketchbook. Mollen hugged the book and stood. Jon thought he had angered her, but she sank down next to him handing him the book. Jon opened to the first page. The wooded area bordered a charred wasteland where woman stood scattered around huts. The next had portraits of women, all of the drawings were of women except for one young boy and a knight in the later drawings. There was page after page of well drawn people and places. "What are these?"

"Memories, my magic takes them from me." He flipped back to the pages of women. They were the earlier sketches, he could tell because her hand wasn't as sure and the details were not as great. The women in the drawings were strong warrior types, remnant of the Bear Island women only dressed for the heat. It was almost a shock how little they wore.

"Why use it then the other women…"

"Can not do magic. Sylys uses four so nobody knows which one to take." It was a smart tactic; many men would love to have magic at their disposal, even if it was only tricks.

"But you are the only one that cannot be bought." Jon looked down realizing what he had said. He was usually more careful with his words.

Mollen laughed and smoothed down a page in the book. "I told him I would lose my magic if I was no longer a maid. I stay for my word, not for loyalty or love. I should get back before they wake. Feed your wolf Jon Snow." Mollen gently pulled the book out of his hands and stood.

Jon sat and watched the castle wake beneath him. He thought about his wolf dreams. They had always been so vivid, as if he was inside of Ghost. Jon leaned his head against the cold stone and thought about Ghost. He closed his eyes and concentrated. His stomach began to grumble, he pushed the feeling aside and concentrated only on Ghost. His mind went blank and he was staring at Robb and the Princess playing with Greywind.

The colors were different than he was used to. The smells were overwhelming. He moved to the end of his tether. No sound would come out of his powerful jaws. A southern guard walked next to the barred walls and threw a rock. He lunged forward and snapped not even a growl escaped, even though it was on his lips. Jon's eyes snapped open as his breath calmed. Jon had no idea how he knew what to do, but he did. Ghost's mind was next to his as he slipped inside his wolf. Jon looked around hoping that no one had seen what he was doing. Old magic had been gone for a long time. The people would not accept this. The dancers, Mollen's magic had the strongest men on edge. If she could be trained to use it in battle, he left that though unfinished. The men had already spoken about it. Jon stood with Ghost's hunger still lingering in his gut and hurried to the kennels.

His wolf found him as soon as he entered, as if he knew he was coming. The chunks of dried meat Robb, Theon and himself made were almost gone. They would need to make another hunting trip. Robb walked in with the Princess and Greywind. "My lady, My lord." Jon recited the pleasantries that were expected of him.

"Jon, please call me Myrcella." Jon looked up at a smiling Robb.

"If you wish Myrcella."

"I do wish." Myrcella smiled; his brother's wife to be was a beautiful young woman, that seemed to be as warm as the southern sun. "Gendry has said kind words about you." Gendry hadn't mentioned that he spoke to the princess to him.

"I must thank my new friend for his kind words." It made him feel a little bit better about his new friend's life. Gendry had shared some of his experiences at court. Some of them were none to kind, at least the Princess seemed to care for Gendry. Myrcella smiled shyly

"Fighting so soon in the day brother?" Robb asked, making him glance over the armor on his arms. He had intended on fighting in the yard but hadn't found a partner.

"Unfortunately no, there were no good sparing partners."

"I shall fix that later." Robb challenged him.

"Anytime brother." He said with a smile.

Jon bid his brother and the princess farewell. Uncle Benjen wanted to speak with him according to one of Winterfell's servants. Jon worked his way through the busy castle. The party from King's Landing made the castle feel too small. Benjen was seated in a leather chair laughing as Ned attempted to finish his work. The two brothers sat talking about old times. Jon had heard part of the particular story many times before. He knocked lightly. "Jon, come in." Ned said with a smile. Jon walked in and sat when his father motioned for him to do so. "We needed to talk to you."

"Ned tells me you wish to join the Watch." Benjen said, watching him with a small smile.

"Aye, that is my wish." The smile left Benjen's lips. Jon watched his uncle take a deep breath.

"Jon, I'm not sure you understand what you would be giving up."

"I understand what it means to hold no lands or titles. I have none." Jon was a man grown; he understood what he wanted to do but needed his family to see it too.

"That one is easier to give up." Benjen said slowly.

"Is this about a wife?" Jon remembered the last conversation he had with his father.

"You don't know what you would be giving up Jon." Benjen said glancing back at Ned.

"So I cannot miss it." Jon saw the reason in that but his mind flashed to the dancing women. "I always wanted to be a Ranger."

"There is no guarantee that you would be a Ranger. The Watch is a tough charge. You have to leave your family as well." Jon looked at his hands in defeat. His father had talked his uncle out of taking him. "I will be returning to the wall on the morrow." Jon nodded. "I will give you one more moon's turn to change your mind. I suggest that you fully understand what you would be giving up." When Jon looked up at his uncle, he was smiling at him. He knew exactly what Uncle Benjen was referring too, women.

"You mean I can join the Watch?"

"Aye, if you still want to when I return."

"I will" Jon felt a weight lifted; he had permission and acceptance. It also occurred to him that his father and uncle were right. For him to truly understand the weight of his vows, he needed to know exactly what he would be giving up. The thought almost scared him more than the Wall itself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise Gendrya is coming for some reason i can't not put those two together it just takes me awhile to get characters together. Ask the SanSan people in my other story. I think i'm going to be sticking to the guys pov's in this story mostly because when i write Arya's POV she is too out of character for me to be happy with it. I may do a few POV's with the OC because it may be necessary to explain her past. Not sure yet. Let me know what you think or if you want to see the women's thoughts. If so i'll work on them. i finally get to see season 2 at the end of this month. (fangirl squeal) I draw my knowledge of this world from the books. GRRM is the master of this world and he better hurry with the next book i'm going crazy.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is some Gendry/Arya. I bumped it up a chapter because that seems to be what everybody wants. Hope you enjoy it and please if anybody feels that i have gone out of character let me know.

Chapter 7- Gendry Waters

The days passed quickly in the forge; he worked on the thin blade, he promised his friend he would make. The idea of making a blade for a lady seemed ridiculous. What kind of lady played with swords? That was before he watched her. Princess Arya was not a normal kind of lady. At first, he believed that was how the women of the North were, but after seeing the other Northern ladies in the dining hall, he realized that was not the truth. Arya laughed too loud and spoke out of turn; she gave her opinion without permission. Queen Catelyn was hard on the princess and her sister, who was by definition the perfect lady, could be cruel to Arya. Gendry watched them all quietly from the back of the room, where bastards belonged. Arya Stark consumed his thoughts of late. Gendry knew that he was being foolish; that he could never hope to be anything to her, other than the man that made her blade. Hell, he wasn’t even sure he wanted to be anything more to her, but Arya had captured his attention. 

The fire and metallic music stopped suddenly, which pulled him from his thoughts. He realized that Jon was standing in the forge waiting for him. “I hope there is never an attack while you are working. You would be dead 100 times over.” Jon chuckled and sat a piece of cloth on his work bench. 

“What is this?” 

“The width of her hand.” Jon said smiling. He unfolded the cloth and found a dried mud print in the middle. He looked at the small print for a few moments. 

“How did you get it?” He went over several ways Jon possibly could have gotten the print. 

“It was easy. I threw mud at her. Arya loves a fight no matter what kind it is. It took me an hour to get the mud out of my hair.” Jon jested, which made Gendry start laughing, if only he could have seen the mud fight. 

“This gives me a pretty good idea for the pommel. I’ve never done anything so small though.” Gendry wondered if he was capable of doing good work on such a small blade. 

“She has always been tiny just do not tell her that. It will be the last thing you do. Are you hungry?” Jon glanced at his work as Gendry looked up at the sun. It was midday. 

“I could eat.” The hall was not near as busy as the evening meals, so they were allowed seats closer to the main table. He liked the food in the North. There weren’t as many spices as King’s Landing but the meals were hearty, and he never left hungry. 

“My father is allowing me to join the Night’s Watch.” Jon said halfway into the peaceful meal. 

“What?!” Jon hadn’t ever mentioned anything to him about the Watch. 

“I know, I did not think he was going to let me.” Jon actually seemed to be happy about it. He didn’t know anybody that joined the Watch willingly. 

“Why would you want to?” Gendry asked before thinking. Jon’s gaze became hard and he stopped eating. 

“The Watch is a noble charge. Many Starks have manned the Wall. My uncle is the First Ranger.” Jon was defensive and angry. 

Gendry thought for a few moments. “I know. I’m sorry.” He hesitated. “Maybe it’s different up here.” 

“What do you mean?” Jon broke apart his bread and pushed juices around on his plate. 

“The only men that go to the Wall from the South are murderers, rapists, and thieves. Nobody joins willingly.” Jon just stared at his food. He didn’t like the idea of his new friend freezing to death at the top of some damned wall with that lot of scum. “When do you leave?” 

Jon looked back up. “Uncle Benjen will be back before you ride south. He wanted me to be certain I knew what I was giving up.” Jon smirked slightly when he said the last part. 

Gendry had a good idea which part of the vows Jon’s uncle spoke of. “So more than wine the next time we visit the tents.” He laughed when the tips of Jon’s ears turned red. Gendry used to be the same way. He would blush like a maiden every time the opposite sex was mentioned, but exposure to King Robert’s habits had diminished the reaction. Jon finally started eating again when Princess Arya walked into the room. He caught himself watching her. 

“Jon there you are.” Robb walked towards them forcing Gendry to tear his sight from Arya. Robb nodded curtly at him; he got the feeling that Prince Robb didn’t really care for him. “Are you ready for that fight you promised me? I have some free time.” Jon agreed to go to the training yard, leaving him alone at the table. 

He was finishing his food when he felt someone standing near him. When he turned to look he knocked over his mead while trying to stand and bow. Princess Arya laughed at his attempts to clean up the mess and bow at the same time. “What can I do for you princess?” It appeared that Arya hated being called princess more than milady. Her eyes turned cold. Gendry glanced around the empty dinning hall. 

“I do not wish to eat alone.” Arya didn’t ask to join him; she simply sat down across from him, making him glance around the room once again. Gendry cursed Jon for leaving him alone. 

“I’m not sure you should be sitting with me milady.” Arya kicked him underneath the table, making him lift his knee into the heavy wood table top hurting him twice. 

“That’s not very lady like.” He glared at her, but couldn’t help the smile on his lips. 

“I’m not a lady!” Arya hissed across the table before grabbing a hunk of meat with her hands and tearing into it. 

“Fine, you aren’t a lady. You still shouldn't kick people. Why are you here?” 

“I’m eating stupid.” 

Gendry bit back his retort. There was always somebody watching. He didn’t’ need to get in trouble because of some mouthy princess. “I see that. I’ve seen better manners on a hog though. Usually highborn ladies eat at the big fancy table, not with some bastard.” 

Arya’s eyes snapped up to his at the last word. There was a fire in them that made his chest tighten. “Do not say that.” Arya slowly said, never taking her cold grey eyes from his. The silence spread between them, but neither of them would break the gaze. 

Gendry’s face split into a big grin. “As milady commands.” Arya kicked at him again, but he moved out of the way. Arya’s foot connected with the heavy wooden table leg instead. 

“Damnit” Arya cried out in pain. He was torn between laughing at her and helping her. He decided that helping her would only anger her more, so he laughed. Arya stood in a hurry; her face was flushed with anger as she stared at him. “You still owe me a fight.” 

“My…” He stopped mid sentence. “Arya” Her name tasted sweet on his lips. “I don’t think.”

“No you don’t think. You’re stupid. Meet me in the Godswood before sunset.” Arya commanded. He sputtered incoherently. “No argument Gendry Waters. Be there.” Arya turned and left him, but not before stealing his lemoncake. Gendry looked around again. It was a habit he got into when he was introduced to court life. Only servants from the North remained. He grabbed a hunk of bread and cheese before going to the yard to watch Jon spar. By the time he reached the training yard, Jon and Robb were covered in sweat. Jon had Robb on the defensive. Jon was aggressively attacking his brother. 

Gendry leaned against the fence next to a group of men watching. “The bastard has been holding back.” He heard Theon say. He snorted not meaning to. “What’s so damn funny bastard?” Theon was trying to piss him off, but men's words barely touched him anymore. 

“Lords don’t like it when mere bastards best them.” Was all he said before popping a piece of cheese into his mouth. He knew he shouldn’t have been so bold. Three years ago he would barely have been able to look Theon in the eye, but one thing that being claimed had given him was confidence. Theon eyed him with a sneer on his face, but Gendry ignored it and continued to watch his friend out fight the Prince. When the master at arms called the fight off, Jon came his way and Robb and Theon went the other. “Should’ve let him win.” 

Jon frowned and unbuckled his armor. “He told me not to. I guess he figured out I have been holding back somehow.” 

Gendry thought back. “Probably when you fought me. We were going at it pretty hard.” Jon just nodded and gathered his armor and weapons. “You’re sister wants me to fight her tonight.” Jon smiled slightly as he put up his gear. “What do I do? I can’t fight the princess.” 

“First you never should have challenged her.” Jon said. Gendry shook his head. All he had said was a Braavosi couldn’t beat a knight. It wasn’t a challenge. “Second, you fight her. Arya will not forget about it.” 

“What if I hurt her?” 

Jon leaned against the wall. “You won’t. Third, don’t hold back. She will know and she will hate you for it.” 

“Can you be there?” He would feel a lot better if someone else was there to witness the fight.

“I cannot, my father wishes to speak to me again.” Jon sighed. “He is trying to talk me out of the Watch, claiming that he has made a match for me, as if a woman could make me change my mind.” Jon added the last part weakly. Gendry didn’t want Jon to join the Watch either, but it seemed to be what his friend truly wanted. “Good luck friend, make sure my sister does not poke any new holes in you.” Gendry said goodbye to Jon and went back to the forge. Mikken was hard at work fixing some mail so he helped out where he could. He didn’t want to start working on anything because he knew how he was once he started. 

Time was moving slowly, but that was probably because he was nervous about meeting the Princess. He knew his place, but Arya seemed to want to push the boundaries of hers. There was no official entrance to the Godswood. The large wooded area within the walls just appeared on one side of the castle. The well worn path into the woods was shaded and winding. Gendry worked his way through the unfamiliar woods, feeling like an intruder. A low growl stopped him in his tracks. Jon mentioned the direwolves but surely they were locked up? The rumbling growl echoed around him once again. He glanced around afraid to turn his body. “About time you showed up.” Arya dropped down from a limb hanging over the path. “I was starting to think you turned craven.” 

“I was about to. Is that your beast?” 

“She’s not a beast.” 

“Could’ve fooled me.” 

“That’s because you’re stupid. Now come on before we lose the light.” Arya spun on her heel and disappeared down the path. He followed after the wolf turned to leave. It wasn’t much further to a clearing in the woods. Arya turned quickly and a wooden practice sword hit him square in the chest. “You are supposed to catch it.” Arya smirked. 

“I beg your pardon milady. I will do better next time.” He leaned down to pick up the sword and watched as her smirk turned into a scowl. He definitely knew how to irritate her. Arya lunged at him swinging her wooden weapon quickly. He barely blocked the hit in time. Arya gave him a cruel smile and sank into her strange Braavosi stance. He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to fight her. Everything was different, the way she stood, her size, the hand she held her sword with, nothing was like he had been taught. He realized it was a challenge, but it didn’t change the fact that she was a princess. It also didn’t help that he would glance at her lips or catch the flair of her hips in her breeches. Arya circled him slowly before darting in for an attack. Again he barely blocked it. “Are you going to fight or just stand there?” Arya sank back into her stance. He looked around the area. They were alone except for a sleeping wolf. It was very inappropriate for them to be here together, alone. She was highborn lady whether she liked it or not. 

“Arya I’m not going to fight you.” Gendry shifted his weight and Arya darted forward. Her sword cracked against his thigh. She shifted to the side gracefully and hit his arm. “Fuck that hurt.” He yelled, forgetting his present company.

“Fight me!” Arya demanded hitting his leg again. 

“No” Gendry knocked her sword back only to catch another quick hit to his side. 

“Fight!” Arya lunged again but his sword caught hers. 

“No” He was not going to give in to her. Arya shifted and lunged again and again. He blocked her blows but didn’t strike. She was quick, almost too quick for him. Arya laid the flat of her blade against his arse as she danced around him and his anger flared. Gendry pressed the attack for the first time. He brought his sword down at her, meeting Arya’s. The princess buckled under his blow but slid easily away from him, only to land another hit to his ribs. The fight had started. Arya ducked and danced around him as he hacked and smashed his sword with hers. They fought until the light faded. There was no winner or loser, just the dance. “You’re very good milady.” Arya smacked him again as they walked down the pathway. He laughed this time, earning him another jab. 

“You’re not terrible, but you use your strength too much.” Arya stopped walking and cocked her head to the side. He wanted to laugh because her wolf did the same. “My mother is looking for me. I better go. See you around Gendry.” Arya ducked into the trees; he watched until he couldn’t see her anymore. As hesitant as he was to truly fight her once he pushed aside who she was, he had had fun. It had been too long since he simply had fun.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8- Robb Stark

"How is the Princess?" His father asked him when he sank into the heavy chair across from his father.

"She is… puzzling." Robb said hesitantly as Ned chuckled.

"Most women are." Ned's eyes sparkled as he spoke with is son.

Robb looked at his father and sighed. "It's just that there are moments when I can actually see her but in the next moment it is lost."

"She has been here for less than a week son, give her time. She is leaving everything she knows. I am sure she is scared. Robert says she has always been shy. Give her time to get to know you and the North." His father was always there for advice and lessons. Robb thought over what Ned had said.

"The wine stores are getting low. We will need to buy more from White Harbor before winter comes." Ned had put Robb in charge of the stewards and keeping track of the storage, but always had to double check everything that he had done.

"Make a list and send it. I'll send riders out with the payment." Ned had never let him resupply without approval. Winterfell was mostly self-sustaining but there were a few things that they got that couldn't be grown within Winterfell's walls.

"You do not need to see the list?"

Ned smiled slightly. "I trust you. Robert's visit has lessened our stocks more than anticipated."

"May I get a gift for Myrcella?" He asked before he could change his mind making his father laugh. He hoped that he could make her feel more welcome and maybe open up.

"Don't do anything too foolish." Ned chuckled.

"I promise I will not buy her a city." Robb smiled as he stood. He may not have wanted a marriage but he was going to make an effort to make his bride to be feel welcome. The only question was how. Myrcella was far too shy and well mannered to tell him. There was only one way he could think of and that was to talk with her brothers. The idea of talking with Joffrey didn't really appeal to him, and Myrcella hadn't mentioned him in the time they spent together.

Robb made one more visit to storage before finishing his list. He looked for Bran and Rickon, knowing that most likely Tommen was with them. Maester Luwin recently released them from lessons, so Robb was left wandering Winterfell looking for the little prince. On his way to the training yard, he saw Gendry working at the forge. He never thought about Gendry; perhaps Myrcella's bastard brother would have an idea about what would make her happy. Gendry was stacking the metal scraps outside of the forge. There was a group of ladies sitting across the yard whispering and giggling at each other. Robb walked the rest of the way to the forge. The girls continued to whisper and laugh. "Gendry"

"Jon's not here milord." Gendry's words were curt.

"I am not looking for Jon. I am looking for Tommen." Robb said ignoring Gendry's tone. Neither of them seemed to really care for the other.

"What do you want with the little prince milord?" Gendry continued working the entire time they spoke.

"I need to speak with him. I wanted to ask him about his sister. Maybe you can help me?"

Gendry stopped and took a pull from a water skin. The girls behind him giggled again. Robb turned and saw Sansa, Arya, and Myrcella walking towards the other ladies. Gendry moved around some more armor. He caught Arya watching Gendry, making him glance back at the bastard. Arya had never looked at a man like that before. He smiled at Myrcella who returned his smile and continued to speak with Sansa. "Help you with what milord."

"It cannot be easy for Myrcella leaving her family, and I wanted to get her something."

"But you don't know what to get her." Gendry said, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

Robb nodded and looked back to the girls. Myrcella turned her head away. "No I don't; does she ride?"

"Not really. Her mother won't let her." Robb was already thinking of some things that they could do. "Cella always spent a lot of time in the gardens."

"Good that's good. Does she have a favorite food?"

Gendry actually laughed and clapped him on the back. "And I thought you would ignore her. She loves honeycakes and the citrus fruits the Martell's send to King's Landing."

"Why would I ignore her? She is to be my wife." Robb really hoped to have a marriage like his mother and father and would make every effort to make Myrcella comfortable, even if it meant putting aside his own fears.

"The queen has kept the princess close. Don't let her courtesy fool you milord. There is more to her."

"Thank you Gendry." He meant his words. It confirmed his thoughts when he would catch those rare glances at the girl beneath the kind words.

"The little prince is practicing archery." Robb nodded and left the heat of the forge after a quick glance to the giggling ladies. Bran, Tommen, and Rickon were attempting to hit the target 20 paces away. Bran still had no eye for archery which made Robb smile as he watched. He leaned against a pole and watched the boys shoot for a moment. Myrcella walked up and stood several paces away. Tommen continued to miss the target.

"Mother does not let him shoot much. She believes he is still too young." Myrcella's voice was sweet and quiet.

"He is two and ten more than old enough to shoot and fight." Robb could not believe that the queen would keep her son from the things that he needed to learn.

Myrcella smiled shyly. "Mother can be protective. He really wants to be a knight, but mother says that he cannot."

It suddenly hit him; the one thing that he could get Myrcella, that would make her truly happy, was keeping her brother here in Winterfell as a squire. Queen Cersei would hate him if he somehow managed to talk King Robert into letting Tommen stay. That didn't mean he wasn't going to try and make his wife to be happy.

Sansa and Arya weren't far behind the princess and he excused himself to go help the boys. Rickon was very good with a bow and Bran could explain in great detail how to shoot a bow, but lacked the consistency an archer required. Tommen was soft at times; the boy had a hard time drawing the string back. The best thing for the boy would be to get away from his mother. "Prince Tommen may I offer a few pointers?"

Tommen looked at him and smiled widely. His green eyes lit up with excitement. The Lannister green was definitely strong. There was no Baratheon looks in any of the Queens children. Not like there was with Gendry. "Thank you my lord."

"Please call me Robb. Now can I see what you can do?" Tommen set up, shot, and barely hit the target. "Your form in good but you are releasing your bow arm too quickly." Robb helped the little prince set up, but when he shot this time he made him hold the bow up a little longer. The arrow hit close to center. "When you drop your bow arm too quickly, you change the way the arrow flies." Tommen nodded and notched another arrow and repeated the process over and over. Robb smiled his approval. Tommen had an archer's eye; he just needed the chance to practice. Tommen waved to his sister and went back to shooting. Sansa and Myrcella were chatting quietly as they watched the boys, while Arya threw rocks; his sister Sansa seemed to really like the princess. He shook his head; his littlest sister would probably never be tamed. "My dear sister is there anyway I can steal the Princess from you."

Sansa looked at the princess and giggled. "I will see you later Myrcella." Sansa linked arms with Arya and pulled her away. He wasn't sure but Myrcella looked a little uncertain.

"I want to show you something." Robb extended his elbow and led her through Winterfell once again. The glass gardens weren't somewhere he spent a lot of time, but there was a calming beauty that he could appreciate. "This is where we grow our food during the winter." Robb held the door open as Myrcella stepped into the humid warmth. Her green eyes took in the massive sheets of glass that hung over their heads and the lush green that surrounded them. Myrcella slowly walked through the room, lightly touching the plants and smelling the flowers. He felt he could sit there and watch her explore all day; she smiled when she leaned in to smell the Winter Roses.

"I have never seen blue roses before. Not even at Highgarden."

"Winter Roses only bloom in the North."

"They are beautiful."

"I am told that we can grow most anything here." Robb paused and put his hands behind his back. "If there is anything you would like, I will do my bet to get it for you." Her green eyes met his and his heart sank momentarily. Tears started to build and he didn't know what to do. Myrcella crashed against his chest and hugged him tightly. He stumbled back but managed to stay upright. Myrcella quickly stepped away.

"I am sorry my lord." She was blushing. Robb smiled; he couldn't help but notice how pretty she was when she blushed.

"It is all right; I just want you to be happy here."

"I think I could be happy here. Once I get use to the cold." He could hear the humor in her voice.

"It is not even cold yet." He teased; he was seeing Myrcella again.

"I have been told that. I am afraid I might just freeze before summer comes again." Myrcella licked her lip and smiled coyly.

"Do not worry princess. It is my job to make sure you stay warm." Myrcella blushed and he realized how his words could be taken. Robb felt his face heat up. He had not meant it that way. "Do you like to ride?' He changed the subject.

Myrcella turned and started walking towards the fruit trees, happily looking at everything. "I do not know. My mother says it is not ladylike to ride around like a wildling on a horse."

"Perhaps you would like to join me for a ride through the Wolfswood sometime."

"My mother would be angry, but I would truly love to go?" Myrcella jumped at the opportunity.

"I do not want to anger your mother, but you should have some fun."

"When can we go?"

Robb chuckled at the excitement in her voice. "I can saddle the horses if you would like to change into something easier to ride in." Myrcella bounced up and down on her feet and hurried away to change. Robb found the stable boy and had him saddle his horse and one of the gentlest mares in Winterfell. When Myrcella arrived, she was wearing a split riding dress and a tunic. Her long blond braid was thrown over her shoulder. Ser Arys was already mounted and waiting. Robb helped her onto her horse and mounted his after belting on his sword.

The quiet, outside of Winterfell, was calming. Greywind danced around him and Myrcella as the horses walked the familiar pathways. Robb had Myrcella's horse snubbed off next to his, so they could speak easily. The white shadow kept his hand on his sword and eyes on the woods. Robb had always felt safe in the woods around them, so he didn't jump at every little noise. Myrcella was telling him about King's Landing as they slowly moved their horses towards a clearing that he knew of. The stream bubbled out of the rocks and trickled downstream, as Robb tied the horses and helped the princess off of her horse. He tired not to let his hands linger too long on her waist, but he defiantly noticed she had a woman's body. "It is so quiet." Myrcella sat on his cloak on the ground; he sat on the ground next to her.

"I love it here. I found it when I was a boy. I broke one of mother's glass figures and ran away."

"You ran away!"

"I thought mother was going to murder me. It was my only option at the time." Myrcella giggled; he was going to have to remember to make her giggle more often. He really liked her laugh. It wasn't shy or quiet it was a joyous laugh, like her fathers. They continued to talk about their pasts. Ser Arys walked around but was never out of sight. Robb was telling a story about Theon, Jon and himself sneaking into the kitchens to steal some of his namesday treats when he suddenly stopped. He could hear movement in the forest, but it wasn't his ears he was hearing with; it was different. "Stay behind me." Robb ordered and pulled Myrcella up and put his back to her, working their way slowly to his horse.

"What we got 'ere?" A man in tattered furs stepped out into the opening.

Another man stepped out next to the first. "Such a pre'y li'lle thing. I think I'll 'ave 'er."

Myrcella clutched at his back tightly. The men rushed him with rusty blades, slashing at him. Myrcella screamed and Ser Arys stepped out of the woods. "Get her out of here." Robb yelled, smashing one blade to the ground. Ser Arys worked his way to his horse, scooped up Myrcella, and disappeared with her, while she screamed his name. More men came into the clearing. He was much better with a sword, but the numbers were tiring him out. Greywind snapped and snarled as he worked his way through the men. Robb slashed and stabbed until the last one fell. He stood there, chest heaving. When he sheathed his bloody blade, he felt warm liquid seeping down his side. He hadn't felt the blade cut him, but one had. Robb pulled himself onto his horse, pointed it towards Winterfell, and kicked it, hoping he would make it home. There was so much blood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have writers block for the first time on my other story. :*( So I give you another chapter for this one. This story is something extra i am doing but i'll only keep posting as long as i know there is at least one person interested in reading it. so please let me know if it it still interesting. That being said i think this one is getting a better response than my other one sadly. I choose to believe that it is because modern au's aren't everybody's thing. Thanks for reading!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because of the awesome response i got for the last chapter, continuing writers block and i myself hate cliff hangers (I'm sorry for doing that.) I give you the next chapter. Thanks for reading and reviewing!

Chapter 9- Ned Stark

There was shouting everywhere, when he finally arrived in the yard. A squire, he didn't know, told him that Robb ran into trouble in the Wolfswood. Jon had his horse waiting for him, when he reached the men of Winterfell mounted and ready to start the search. "What happened?" He asked as he stepped onto his horse.

"Robb and the Princess were attacked while riding. Ser Arys brought the princess back but Robb hasn't returned." Jon answered, as they kicked their horses towards the gates. He felt the fear building inside of him. He was angry at the Kingsguard for leaving Robb alone, and angry at himself for not sending a guard of his own. Ned led the group of riders outside the walls and split the group, ordering different areas to search. Jory was back tracking Ser Arys tracks into the woods, while the men around them shouted for Robb.

"Did the princess say where they were?" He asked as he searched the thick woods for a sign of his son.

"The poor girl could hardly speak." Jory said quietly. Jon yelled through the trees, making the men around him stop. Ned moved in and out of the branches towards his other son's voice. There was a small clearing bathed in blood and bodies. Ned slowly dismounted his horse and started turning the dead over, praying that one of them wasn't his boy.

"Wildlings?" Jon asked.

"Aye" He answered as he continued to look through the men. There had never been that many so close to his walls.

"Why are there so many?" Jon was looking through the bodies as well. So far, none were Robb.

"I get 10 Your Grace." Theon shoved the last one over, and grabbed Robb's cloak off of the ground.

"He's not here. Spread out and find him!" Ned ordered and saddled up to continue the search for his son. The search continued long into the night. The longer it went the more the fear and uncertainty got to him. The men would not come near him, afraid he would lash out; he had lost his patience many hours ago. The torches burned brightly but barely touched the darkness. The men were exhausted and hungry.

"Your Grace, perhaps we could continue the search at first light. The men are tired and we cannot see our hand in front of our face." He wanted to yell, but Jory offered sound advice.

"We start the search again at sun up. Get the men rested."

"Father no!" Jon argued.

"Jon, the men need rest. We have been searching most of the day." Ned said, even though he felt the same as Jon. The ragged group returned to the castle tired and empty handed.

"Where is Robb?" Arya asked as soon as they stepped into the hall.

"We still have not found him."

"Let me go look." Arya begged.

"Not now Arya." Ned cut his daughter off before she could continue. "We head out at first light everybody to bed now!" His family all filed out reluctantly. The food he missed earlier in the day was set before him and the other men, that chose to eat before they slept. Jon sat down at the table next to him. "We will find him." Ned said hesitantly trying to fill the silence; he didn't doubt they would find him, it was whether or not they would find him alive.

"I should have ridden with them." Jon said to his food.

"Do not blame yourself Jon. I should have sent a guard with him. Robb told me his plans." There was the sound of crashing metal followed by shouts. Ned stood and hurried outside in time to see a hooded figure running towards them quickly, with many of his guards following. The metal that surrounded the forge was scattered across the yard. Jon came up next to him as the person approached. The both drew their swords as the small figure grew closer. "Stop!" He yelled out. One guard was close enough to hit the man in the back, sending him sprawling at Ned's feet. "Sit up" Ned ordered. The man did and the hood fell back.

"Mollen?" Jon said as he sank down next to the girl, his sword forgotten. She started speaking in her native tongue. "Mollen, I don't understand you." Jon tried to calm the frightened girl.

The girl took some steady breaths and whispered to Jon. "Your brother."

Ned sank to his knees next to his son. "Where is Robb?"

"My tent, he is hurt. They would not let me through the gates. I am sorry."

"Get the Maester." He yelled over the noise. Ned stood and pulled the girl to her feet. She took a hard blow to her back. "Show me." Mollen stumbled slightly but walked to the front gate. The tents were mostly quiet so early in the morning. Mollen led them to a small tent, near the back of the camp, and let them inside. Robb was lying on the pallet of full of furs. His shirt was off and there was cloth wrapped around his chest.

"I stopped the bleeding and cleaned the wounds before I came to you." Mollen said quietly, barely standing inside her own tent. Ned could only nod as he sat next to his pale son. It did not take too long for Maester Luwin to come to the tent and move him out, as he worked on Robb's wounds.

It took some time before he was able to speak again. "How did he come to you?" Mollen, who sat on the ground, had her hands wrapped around her blood soaked skirt; she looked at Jon who nodded.

"I was sleeping when I felt the fear." He wasn't sure what she was talking about. Jon looked at him and touched Mollen's shoulder. "I woke and went to the woods towards the fear. His wolf found me and brought me to him. He was lying on the ground, unmoving."

"How far from here was he?"

"Deep in the woods south of here, it took me too long to get him here. He is heavy. They would not let me through the gates, so I climbed. I am sorry." Mollen looked scared.

"There is no need to be sorry. You found my son. I owe you a debt." Ned said, finally feeling himself beginning to calm down.

Mollen shook her head. "No your grace, no debt. Please do not tell it was me." He found it odd that she would call him by his title, but refused it to Robert and that she didn't want anything. Most jumped at the chance to win a King's favor. Ned nodded to Jon, who stayed with the girl, as he walked over to Jory.

"Get a wagon and tell Lady Catelyn that we have Robb." Ned turned back towards the tent in time to see Jon wrap his furs around Mollen. They waited for what felt like an eternity for the Maester to come back out.

"He still sleeps. Who cleaned his wounds?" Maester Luwin asked, when he stepped fully out of the tent.

"I did."

"Your work is good." Mollen just nodded and curled into Jon's furs. It was getting colder and quick, far quicker than he ever remembered before.

"Jory is getting a wagon to move him."

"Your Grace, I believe it would be best if he stays here for the time being." Luwin countered.

"The castle is warmer and safer."

"Yes it is, but he has lost a lot of blood and moving him so soon could cause more bleeding." He did not like Robb being outside the walls, but he would not risk injuring his son further.

"He will stay until it is safe to move him. Get some guards posted out here." Ned told the men standing nearby.

"Where is my son?" Catelyn hurried towards him, carrying her skirt. He had not seen her approach.

"Cat what are you doing here? This is no place for a Lady."

"Ned he is my son; where is he?"

"In there." He told his wife who pushed inside the tent. Maester Luwin followed his wife inside. "I need ten men standing outside of this tent. Nobody is to go near the women while on duty." Ned picked a few men to stand guard and came to a stop near the tent. He was exhausted.

"Your Grace." He heard Jon say from behind him. He shook his head and wished he could tell Jon not to call him that.

"Yes Jon."

"Mollen is going to need a place to sleep." Ned stopped and looked at the girl.

"My apologies Mollen, I have taken your bed."

"It is fine. I will sleep in another tent." Ned nodded, but Jon still wanted to speak. "Yes Jon." He knew the look on Jon's face when he wished to say more but wouldn't. He took several paces away from the tent, and Jon followed.

"Can we do something for her? The other women all have men in and out of their tents."

"It's a brothel Jon. They all have men in their tents." He was grateful to the girl, but his wife would never allow a whore inside of Winterfell.

"She doesn't"

"Jon if that's what she told you…"

Jon's temper flared. "You saw her tent. Does it look like she… entertains?" Ned stood there and looked at his son. Jon had never allowed his temper to show in his presence. He had to admit that this small tent was nothing like the tent that he had seen on his visit to Robert.

"Your Grace, may I get my things." Mollen asked from beneath Jon's furs.

"Go with her Jon and show her to a spare servant's quarters." Jon smiled slightly and went inside with Mollen, so she could gather a few things. When they came back out, he stopped Jon. "Post a guard at her door." Jon looked like he wanted to argue again but just nodded and walked away.

Catelyn was sitting in the dirt next to Robb, stroking the auburn hair on his forehead. Ned closed a lid on one of the trunks and sat down. "He will be okay." Catelyn said, without looking at him.

"Aye he will. We should be able to move him back to the castle soon."

"When did he grow up?" Catelyn asked with a slight smile.

Ned chuckled; because, he had been thinking the same thing. "I do not know my love, but he will have children of his own before long. There were ten men in that clearing, all dead from Robb or his wolf. He is a man." Ned statement was full of pride that made his wife smile.

"Someone needs to tell the Princess; she is worried."

"It can wait until morning."

"I do not want to leave him Ned."

"I know Cat, but you cannot stay here. It is not appropriate."

Catelyn sighed. "I know my love."

"The girl that found Robb is staying in the castle." Catelyn's eyebrow quirked up. He had seen that look many times, when the children did something she didn't approve of. "She saved his life Cat and we have her tent."

"She is a whore Ned."

"Look around you. Does it look like a whore's room?" He prayed the argument Jon used on him would work on his wife. Catelyn looked around the small space. There were scattered books and a few changes of modest clothing.

"She is to leave as soon as Robb can be moved."

"As you wish." Ned was relieved there wasn't more of an argument. Jory announced his presence, making him leave the tent. After a quick briefing Ned had Jory escort his wife back to the castle. Ned settled into a comfortable spot on the floor for the night. He drifted off a few times, only to have the various sounds from the camp wake him. Morning finally came with a dense fog that carpeted the grounds, making it impossible to see the castle. It was a good thing that Mollen found Robb. The search would have been next to impossible. Ned sat close as Maester Luwin checked Robb's wounds.

"All looks well your Grace. He will be weak when he wakes, but we should be able to get him to the castle then."

"Thank you Luwin." He was brought food to break his fast and had a few visitors to ask on Robb's health. The princess had sent a few men personally. Jon returned with Mollen, who disappeared into the maze of colorful tents. Jon did not speak, only sat and looked around the tent. "Her world is different than ours."

"Excuse me father?" Jon usually called him that when no one was around to hear it.

"Mollen, do you know where she is from?"

"Valyria if you believe the men." Valyria was a wasteland, but there were rumors of a few survivors, other than the Targaryens. Jon picked up a book and thumbed through the pages.

"It's hard to know what is true when men speak of women or other worlds." Ned said and Jon nodded. Robb turned lightly in his sleep and quickly sat up with a painful shout.

"Myrcella." Robb croaked out and Jon handed him some water.

"Easy son. She is safe. Take it easy." Ned said as he put his hand on his son's shoulder. Robb tried to get up but decided to lean against the trunks stacked against the head of the pallet.

"Where am I?" Robb looked around the tent confused.

"Mollen's tent." Jon said, taking the water from Robb.

"Mollen?... The dancer you are always staring at?" Ned looked at Jon who turned red. "How did I get here?"

"She felt your wolf's fear and came to you." Jon answered as if it was the simplest explanation in the world.

Robb looked at Jon like he had grown another head. "She felt his fear? Have you lost your mind? For the last time Jon, the girl cannot do magic." Ned had seen his boys argue many times over the years. Normally it was trying, but seeing Robb feeling well enough to push his brother brought relief.

"She can and if it was not for her magic; you would still be in the woods."

"I thought you were smarter." Robb answered back.

"Enough you two." Ned said with a smile. "I do not care how she found you, all that matters is that she did." Jon looked at Robb sullenly for a few moments before he smiled. Ned chuckled at his two oldest boys. "What happened out there Robb?" Jon handed Robb a hunk of dried meat.

Robb chewed as he thought. "We were talking in the clearing. I heard footsteps." Robb paused like he wasn't certain. "I pulled Myrcella behind me and the men started coming out of the woods. Ser Arys showed up and I made him take Myrcella. The rest happened so fast." He knew what battle was like and hated that Robb had to experience it, but was proud that his son fought so well and lived through it. "I fought them and got on my horse. I must have fallen." Ned nodded and talked with his sons until Robb was well enough to return to the castle.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait between updates. We were hit by a blizzard and I have been without power and water for the last 5 days. I guess that is the downside to living in the country. I am still working on Different Kind of Knight and hope to have an update soon. Finally saw season 2 of GOT it was really good but can't compare to the books. It's a good thing i'm capable of enjoying both of them equally without over analyzing either of them. Correction without over analyzing the show. I will always try to figure out GRRM's beautiful masterpiece. I own nothing and am just playing here. Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 10- Jon Snow

Robb seemed to be doing well. His brother was still slow to move but was walking around the castle a few days after the attack. The Princess would not stop fussing over his brother and Queen Cersei would do nothing but glare at Robb. It was as if the queen blamed Robb for the attack. His father continued to post more guards around the walls of Winterfell since the attack. It was the largest group of wildlings to attack in recent history. They would get an occasional two or three while in the Wolfswood, but never the numbers that Robb had encountered.

Jon found himself waking the outer walls again. The crow's nest loomed above him. If he was honest with himself, he walked the walls for a chance to see her again. A shadow crossed the empty expanse of the window. He slowly started ascending the winding steps again. Mollen wasn't sitting in her normal spot when he reached the top. At first, he thought he was seeing shadows, but when he turned to leave he caught her hiding in the shadows. "Mollen?" He stepped closer and Mollen moved away from him, deeper into the shadows. "Are you well?" Jon stopped moving toward her and stared. The little light that touched her revealed the fresh bruises around her eye. As he glanced over her body he saw the angry marks on her neck and arms.

"I am well, please leave." He was torn between following her wishes and making sure she was not hurting.

"Who hurt you?" He had a feeling that he already knew who had hurt her.

"Jon please, you will only make it worse." He couldn't leave her, not like this. Jon slowly approached her, like he would a frightened animal. Mollen allowed him to get closer but wouldn't look at him.

"I do not like seeing you hurt." He said a few paces from her.

"I will be gone soon. You will not see me anymore." Mollen sank to the floor and Jon sat down next to her, careful not to touch her.

"What happened?"

Mollen pulled at the seams of her dress. "He found out I snuck into the castle. He was angry and afraid that the King would make him leave."

"You helped the King's son."

"I did not tell him about your brother." Mollen looked up at him briefly and then looked back down.

"You should have told him."

"No, he would have tried to collect coin from the king." Mollen was protecting his family; he felt even guiltier for her pain. Her pain would not have happened if it wasn't for them.

"Will you go to the Maester so he can look at you?"

"They are nothing."

"Please, it is the least we can do."

"Will you leave me be if I go?" Mollen looked at him with her silver eyes.

Jon swallowed hard. He had liked talking to Mollen and she wanted him to leave her alone. "If that is what you wish."

Mollen smiled slightly. "You are a good man Jon Snow." His last name, that he had grown to hate, did not sound as bad when she said it. "I will go to your Maester." Jon stood and extended his hand to help her up. The bruises looked worse in the daylight. He felt a rage, he didn't' know he possessed, build within him. He had been taught to respect women and not to raise a hand to one. Her handler had not been taught that lesson; perhaps he would teach it to him. Mollen stepped lightly behind him, making him turn a few times to make sure she was still following. Jon noticed the stares as he walked across the yard towards the Maester's tower. There was going to be new whispers spreading by the time he left the yard.

"Bastard!" Jon stopped and Mollen ran into his back. King Robert was walking towards him quickly. There was several of the King's party following Robert.

"Your Grace" Jon kneeled like he was supposed to do. Jon heard a sword pulled and his heart started pounding. He had no idea what he could have done to anger the King.

"Dragon spawn!" Robert yelled, making Jon look up. King Robert was red with rage or wine; he wasn't certain. "I Robert of House Baratheon, titles… titles… sentence you to die. I'll have your last words."

Jon was stunned; he couldn't bring himself to look around; he knew no one would stop the King. "Why am I to die Your Grace?" The words came out as he thought them. He felt he deserved to know that much at least.

"For what!" Robert yelled, turning a deeper shade of red. "Your bastard of a father stole my woman." Jon couldn't understand what was happening. His father would not steal anything. Ned Stark was far too honorable. Robert pulled his sword back. The blood was flooding through his ears, drowning out all other noise. Everything around him was moving slowly. This was how he was going to die, kneeling before a King. There was a whirl of fabric and someone blocking his sight. "Move woman." Robert growled.

"No"

Jon stood and tried to pull Mollen away. Robert had his blade at her throat. "Mollen please." He begged. He would not let her die for him.

"He will not kill you without reason." Mollen said strongly for all to hear.

"Without reason!" Robert pressed the blade into her neck. The crimson trickle ran down her neck, but Mollen didn't flinch. Jon tried to pull her away again and again he failed. "His dragon filth of a father raped my Lyanna."

"Lyanna" Jon whispered.

"Your mother, bastard." The court yard went completely quiet at the Kings words.

"I know of Lyanna Stark." Mollen said quietly as Robert pushed the blade into her neck harder. "Even my world knows of Lyanna and the man that loved her."

"I loved her more than life itself; he took her from me." Robert's voice faltered and Jon tried to pull Mollen back again, but she resisted.

"And here you stand trying to take the only thing that is left of her."

"He is dragon spawn!" Robert traced a line across Mollen's throat as he yelled.

"He looks Stark to me." Robert looked straight at him when Mollen spoke. The grip on the King's sword relaxed.

"Enough" Ned yelled across the yard, as he walked quickly towards them. "What is this?" Jon could see the rage beneath his father's… King Stark's eyes.

"Rhaegar's bastard Ned? Why didn't you tell me?"

"You are trying to kill my son Robert; why would I?"

"He's not your son!" Robert dropped his sword and turned to speak with Ned. Jon pulled Mollen back. The thin line across her neck trickled blood, but Mollen didn't seem to notice.

"Jon" He jumped when Ned called him. He was scared and angry at everybody but couldn't say anything. It was two kings he was most angry with. "Take her to Maester Luwin." He clenched his jaw and nodded afraid to speak through his rage. Mollen tugged on his arm, and he led her away from the scene that they had made.

Maester Luwin wasn't in his tower when they arrived. Jon sent the steward to get him and sat Mollen down and found a rag to wipe away the blood. He gently rubbed the cloth over her neck and chest lost in his thoughts. "Are you well?" Jon looked up into Mollen's silver eyes.

"You are the one bleeding and you ask me that." Jon wrung out the rag.

"Wounds heal faster than words."

"Who am I?"

"You are Jon Snow." Mollen said simply.

Jon stood to find another clean cloth. He shook his head. "Aye, I know I am still a bastard." Jon knocked a bowl off of the desk in a fit of rage.

"You misunderstand me. You are the same man who helped me when I was hurt; the same man that helped me this morning, a good man Jon."

"A bastard"

Mollen stood in front of him and placed her hand on his cheek. "I dislike that word. Where I come from there is no marriage, only a few have a special bond for life. How you are born does not matter, only what you do with your life."

"This world is not yours." Jon said harshly. Mollen dropped her hand and walked to the window.

"I know."

Jon hated himself in that moment. In his anger he had forgotten that Mollen was most likely taken from her home. "Forgive me."

"You are angry. I understand. This will not change you if you do not let it." He found himself walking to her once again. Jon was never truly comfortable around Ladies, but he was drawn to Mollen. She looked up at him when he reached her side. He touched her bruised cheek and ran his thumb over the split on her lip. Mollen softly kissed his thumb, when it lingered too long on her lip, making his heart beat quicker. The footsteps coming up the steps grew louder. He stepped away when the door knob turned.

"I am so sorry to have to see you again." Maester Luwin said as he examined the cut on her neck; he stitched some of the cut and smeared a cream before bandaging it. Maester Luwin examined the rest of her injuries and gave her some dream wine and extra cream for the wound. Jon walked Mollen back outside and back towards her tent. The people in the yard stopped talking and looked at him as they walked. Jon wished he could disappear. The few women that were out watched as he walked with Mollen through the maze of tents; he briefly wondered if she felt the same way.

Her tent was the same as the last time he saw it. Mollen moved around the small space, picking up books and clothes that were scattered around. Jon knew that one king or the other would want to talk with him, but he couldn't bring himself to leave her. Every time he did, she carried more bruises. Mollen finally sank down on her bed and looked up at him. "If you want, you can stay here for awhile." Mollen messed with the furs on her pallet. He did want to stay but wasn't sure if it was because of her or avoiding the Kings. "I know it is not much, but it is quiet. The women will be sleeping for some time." Jon finally walked further into the tent and sat next to the bed. It felt strange to be in a woman's room. Mollen suddenly stood and went to a trunk behind him. "It is a custom of my people to give a gift to a new friend."

"Mollen that is not necessary."

"It is Jon."

He wished he could argue against it, but Mollen looked too happy to be giving him something. Mollen pulled out a bolt of cloth and sat cross legged next to him. She smiled when she handed it to him. Jon reluctantly un-wrapped the cloth until a sword was revealed. The blade was as black as night and shimmered like ice. "Mollen, this is Valyrian steel."

Mollen just looked at him. "It is my people's steel."

"I cannot keep this." He knew it was too much. The blade was priceless.

"You do not want my friendship?" Mollen moved away from him.

"That is not what I mean."

"It is what you say."

He had never dealt with people from other worlds before. "I want to be your friend."

"Then you accept my gift?" Jon slowly shook his head yes; he was uncertain of how to handle the situation. "This blade has a name. I believe it is meant for you."

"What is its name?"

"Blackfyre" Jon looked at Mollen to see if she jested. "You know of it?"

"Aye, Aegon the Unworthy gave the blade to his bastard son Daemon. It is said that it is how the Blackfyre rebellion first started. The blade was lost during the battle."

Mollen shook her head and smiled. "Not lost Jon only looking for a home." Jon stared at the beautiful blade. The irony was not lost on him. A bastard blade of a bastard Targaryen found another bastard Targaryen.

"This is too much." He did not deserve such a gift.

"I cannot swing this sword." Mollen moved closer and laid her hand on his. "Please Jon, I want you to have it. It is meant to be."

He could feel the warmth from her hand. When he looked at her, his gaze lingered on her lips. He watched her lips as he spoke "Who are you?" It was almost a whisper.

"I am Mollen of Valyria, daughter of Myena. I was a queen to my people as was my mother's mother. Old magic flows through my veins." Mollen whispered back as if she was hiding the words.

"Your people?, Valyria was destroyed." He was kind when he said it.

"Not all of it's people were though. A few lived. We are the blood of the dragon. Our story has been passed from mother to daughter since the time of the Doom."

Jon caught the strangeness in her words. "Mother to daughter?" What about the men?"

Mollen smiled slightly. "There are no men."

He could not believe what she was saying. How could women survive all this time without men? "How do you…" Jon stopped feeling embarrassed.

Mollen licked her bottom lip and smiled. "We do not have men in our home, but they are near. We choose our mates when ready."

Everything about her world was so different. "Men are just mates? What of the male children?"

"They stay with us until age five and are sent to the men. We are marked. Like this." Mollen pulled up her sleeve and showed him a paw shaped burn on her arm. "My brother has the same mark so we do not couple."

These women chose their men. He wondered how she found her way to Westeros; she was a queen and she was close to him. Closer than ever before, kneeling next to him with soft warm skin. Jon leaned closer to her without thinking. All he wanted was to taste her. Mollen did not pull away but leaned towards him. Jon pressed his lips to hers and simultaneously leaned forward, sending his new blade to the ground as he got closer to her. His hand cupped her face as the kiss grew deeper. Her hands were clutching the furs around his shoulders. "What is this?" A man's voice asked from behind him. They broke apart quickly and Mollen sunk back against the back wall of the tent, wrapping her arms around her knees. "My girls aren't free boy and this one is special."

Jon wanted to beat the man bloody for the hurt he had caused her. He held his anger in check, now was not the time. He took a few calming breaths. "I will pay for the kiss. That is all I got." Jon said, hoping it would appease the slimy little man. Mollen ducked her head into her skirt; he wished she would look up at him.

"That is all you will get. Stay away from her." Jon picked up his sword, that was still wrapped, grabbed a few coins from his pouch, and handed them over. Mollen still wouldn't look at him as he ducked out of the tent. The women around the camp watched him as he left. The rest of the castle's eyes followed him as he marched back to the trouble he wished he could forget. He had always wanted to know who his mother was, but now he wished he had never heard those words said. Lyanna Stark's son, not Eddard Stark and some unknown woman; he was Lyanna Stark's and Rhaegar Targaryen's son. Jon turned on his way to the castle and walked straight to the forge.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter well just because. I am really sorry to the people following my other story but it's just not to my liking and i can't bring my self to post yet. So i guess this is to make up for the lack of updates on the other one. :( please let me know what you think this story is only driven by the response i get it's not for sanity like the other one, just for fun. - I own none of GRRM's world

Chapter 11- Gendry Waters 

There were whispers all over the castle. Jon Snow was a bastard Targaryen. Robert had managed to find out somehow and wanted Jon's head. Luckily Jon had been with the girl or his new friend would be a head shorter. He had noticed that Jon had been spending more and more time with the girl at first he thought it was a minor infatuation but now he wasn't sure. He wanted to go look for Jon after the incident but wasn't sure he should. They hadn't been friends for long but they both knew each other well enough, so he waited for Jon to come to him.

Gendry continued to work on the small blade. If he was being honest with himself it was some of the best work he had ever done. The edge was razor sharp all he had left to do was the detailing. He had included a direwolf etched in the base of the blade. The hilt was mostly plain except for a few leather tooling to make it a little more elegant. For some reason he knew Arya wouldn't want anything flashy. For the most part he was done; he marked his work neatly at the base of the pommel. There were very few blades that carried his mark and he was proud to call this one of them.

Jon quickly stepped in and shut the door behind him. Gendry turned the sword in his had looking for imperfections waiting for Jon to speak. "Have you heard?"

"The whole castle has heard. Word is that the two Kings are still yelling at each other." Gendry ran the oiled cloth over the blade once again.

"I always wanted to know who my mother was. Now I wish I didn't." He wasn't sure what to say to his friend, so he remained quiet. Jon was one of the last Targaryens except for his aunt who was married to some horse lord across the Narrow Sea. "King Stark isn't my father." Jon said in disbelief.

"He is though Jon. He raised you." Gendry said calmly.

"He lied to me!" Jon said loudly. There was anger in Jon that he hadn't thought possible, but it died quickly.

"He lied, but you still live because of it." Gendry ran a stone over the edge of the blade just so he had something to do.

"Stop speaking sense. I want to be angry." Jon snapped and then smiled.

Gendry laughed at his friend. "But you're not, not really."

Jon hopped up and sat on one of the tables. "No not really. It doesn't change anything. I'm still a bastard, still Jon Snow."

"You're taking this better than I would. I would've smashed up some thing." He finally set the little blade down.

Jon chuckled. "Ours is the fury."

"No shit, Baratheon blood runs hot."

"And Stark blood runs cold. I wonder what dragon blood runs." Jon mused aloud in good humor. He was expecting to find Jon in a worse state than he was in.

"I'm guessing it runs hot too. It looks like you're of ice and fire." Gendry joked making Jon smile and then sigh. "Have you talked to King Stark yet?"

"Not yet, I needed time to think."

"In the tents?" Gendry had heard the whispers of Jon and the girl.

"With Mollen." Jon confirmed.

"So she is for sale." He smirked at Jon.

Jon jumped down and walked towards him all good humor gone. "No she is not for sale." There was definitely and edge to Jon's voice.

"Sorry people talk."

"People don't know shit. We talked that is all." Jon looked away telling him that wasn't all that happened. Gendry laughed making Jon chuckle. "I kissed her."

"And?" He pushed.

"And nothing, we were interrupted. She did give me this though." Jon un-wrapped the cloth he was carrying and laid the most beautiful blade he had ever seen out on the table. He wanted to touch it but couldn't bring himself to do it.

"Valyrian steel" Gendry whispered; he had never seen it before.

"Pick it up." Jon said quietly watching him. Gendry lifted the blade. It was light and the balance was perfect. "Its name is Blackfyre."

He almost dropped the blade when he heard the name. "What? How? It's lost."

"That's what I thought."

"It can't be. How can you be sure?"

"Maester Luwin should have a description in one of his books maybe even a drawing." Jon had at least had the sense to question whether or not it was the blade. There was not telling how the girl got it though.

"Jon if Robert hears about this blade…" Gendry knew the crown was making his father paranoid. Having Blackfyre in Jon's hands would make the most stable ruler nervous. History tended to repeat itself.

"That crossed my mind. I wasn't planning on telling anyone about it." Jon watched him as he slashed at the air with the blade.

Gendry sat the blade down and threw the cloth over it. "That must have been one hell of a kiss." Gendry laughed at the look on Jon's face making Jon shove his shoulder smiling.

"What about you? Any of the women of Winterfell catch your eye?"

There was on but he couldn't tell Jon that. "There are some pretty ones." He said noncommittally. Jon was his friend but Arya was Jon's sister. That was one secret he would take to the grave. The door swung open and Mikken walked inside.

"Jon surprised to see you here. I believe the king is looking for you. I don't need you distracting this one." Mikken slapped Gendry on the back. "He's almost got me caught up and the place has never been cleaner."

Jon grabbed the cloth and walked to the door frowning. "I better not keep the King waiting. Let me know when that sword is done, so we can give it to the rightful owner." Gendry nodded before Jon stepped out the door.

"How's he doing?" Mikken asked looking at the sword he had just finished.

"He's angry but dealing with it."

"He's a good lad. I hope this doesn't break him."

"I hope it doesn't send him to the wall faster then he wanted." Mikken nodded and went to work on a suit of armor that was damaged in a sparring match.

Gendry stopped messing with the blade knowing it couldn't get any better and wrapped in up in a cloth before taking it to his chambers to keep safe.

The dinning hall was filling up fast and it was no surprise. The smells coming from the kitchens were mouth watering. A great boar was being brought out and set on the table as it was carved. "What are the tents like?" Arya came out of nowhere and sat down next to him. He had no idea how she moved so quietly.

He had no idea how he was supposed to answer. Noblewomen weren't supposed to want to know about brothels. "Why do you care?"

"I want to know why Jon is spending all of his time there and I've heard the men speak of magic." Arya stated as she stole some of his food off of his plate.

"He don't spend all of his time there." He knew he was avoiding the question. It was one he really didn't want to answer.

"He spends enough. Is he with whores?" Gendry opened his mouth to speak but words wouldn't come out.

He finally managed to compose himself. "Do you even know what a whore is?"

"I know what a whore is." Arya glared at him. "What is it like in there? They won't let me go in."

"The tents are no place for a lady." Gendry refused to answer her questions once again.

"Shut up! I am tired of hearing that." Arya raised her voice and stood making the men around them look in their direction.

"Quiet Arya, you're making a scene." Jon whispered in Arya's ear. Jon smiled at him and sat down next to him.

"I don't care!" Arya hit Jon making the men around them laugh. Robb came a few moments later and retrieved Arya. He hated that she would probably get in trouble for the little scene.

"What did you do to Arya?" Jon asked when the next course was served.

"She wanted to know what the tents were like." Jon coughed down his wine. "And if you were seeing whores." Gendry smiled at the shock on Jon's face it was same as he felt when Arya had said it.

"How could she think that?"

"Your time in the tents." He took a long drink of wine.

"Not with whores." Jon said looking hurt.

"You know that and I know that but everyone else." Gendry shrugged.

"I'm the bastard everyone always thought I would be." They finished eating in silence. Luckily King Robert wasn't present so he didn't have to worry about a repeat of the incident in the yard. They both left at the same time. He knew where they were going before they left it was a routine.

The tents were packed when they arrived. There wasn't even a place for them to sit that wasn't the floor. The women brought them drinks as they found a corner to sit in. They sat and talked and laughed as the en began to trickle into the back tents. Robb and Theon joined the when they had a table. They were having a good time laughing at the japes and drinking too much wine. Theon took a girl to the back tents and Jon's eyes followed Mollen's every move as she danced around the room. It was strange to see; the other women were groped and mauled as they danced but Mollen remained untouched. It was like the men could sense she was different. Robb laughed and made fun of his brother who stared openly at one of the dancers.

Jon's words with Ned had settled down Jon who seemed to be at peace with the day's events at least on the outside. It was hard for him to read a Stark. Mollen had come to their table to pour more wine after her last dance. Robb and Gendry watched with barely contained laughter as Jon grew tenser. Robb eased his brother's pain and spoke. "I never got to thank you for saving me."

Robb smiled and Mollen tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "I did not save you it was your wolf that found me."

Robb started to speak again when Jon interrupted. "Mollen can I speak with you… in private?" Mollen looked at Jon while the table sat quietly.

"I am not for sale Jon Snow." Mollen turned and left quickly.

"What was that?" He stared at his friend.

"What did you do to make her angry?" Robb questioned Jon who was still staring at the exit Mollen took.

"I need to talk to her she misunderstood." Jon stood up.

"Misunderstood what?"

"When we were interrupted it was Sylys. I offered to pay for the kiss." Jon weaved through the crowd towards the back of the tent. Gendry silently wished him luck. Women could be dangerous when angry.

"He kissed her?" Robb said in disbelief.

"Yes"

"He has never done anything like that before. Why didn't he tell me?" Robb looked hurt and a little angry.

"He's had a lot on his mind."

"I am still his brother." Robb said angrily.

"Maybe you should tell him that." He knew that Robb and Jon hadn't really talked since the sparring match in the training yard.

"I should get back to the castle father does not want us to be out her over night." Robb changed the subject.

"I'm going to wait on Jon." Robb nodded stiffly and left. There were a few people that still sat and drank but many had either turned in or chose to spend their coins on women. He watched the men for awhile as he drank. There was a small man sitting in the corner alone watching everything with wide grey eyes. He watched the little man for awhile. There was something about the man that was vaguely familiar. There was dirt and grease smeared on his face and his hair was mashed under a cap. The clothes looked too big and the posture was too stiff. Another mug of wine was set in front of him distracting him from the table the man sat at. When he looked back the guy was gone.

Gendry finished the drink and got up. He knew he should probably leave Jon be but King Stark was very clear about them not staying in the tents for too long. The guards had told him which tent to look in so he slowly walked his way to the back of the city of fabric. On his way he caught sight of the man from earlier. The only problem was that it wasn't a man. He knew exactly who that was. Gendry crossed the paths and alleys quickly making as little noise as possible. Sneaking up from behind was easier then he thought it would be. The small figure was too busy listening to the conversation in the tent next to them. He wrapped his hand around her mouth and waist at the same time. "What are you doing here?" He whispered in her ear as he packed a kicking Arya away from the tent Jon was in. Her small frame fit perfectly against his.

Arya bit his hand hard and he dropped her to the ground roughly. "Who the hell do you think you are?" Arya said loudly.

"Shh, do you want Jon to hear you. I doubt he would like his little sister following him here." Arya glared at him.

"How did you know?"

"You're a lady it's not hard to tell." He smirked at her.

"I am not!" Arya hissed. This argument again, Arya Stark was more than amusing.

"Oh really" He cocked an eyebrow at her. "Then pull your cock out and take a piss." Arya shoved him angrily sending him to the ground laughing. "You're a terrible lady."

"Shut up, what is Jon doing?"

Gendry slowly propped himself on his elbows. "You should ask him. It's not my place to say. Arya you really shouldn't be here." He took all of the teasing out of the statement.

"Why aren't you with a woman all the rest are?" She really knew how to make his blood boil.

He felt his face flare with heat. Thankfully it was dark. "I didn't feel like it." He sounded angry when he said it.

"Why not? Men are ruled by their cocks." He was speechless once again. Highborn ladies were not supposed to say that.

"They are not."

"Are too. All of them are here every night even Jon."

"I'm not talking with you about this. Come on we're goin' back to the castle."

"I don't need a guard."

"Maybe not but if you don't then I'm tellin' Jon you were spying on him."

"You wouldn't"

"I would."

"You're an idiot." Arya started marching towards the castle with him following. He knew she was mad and it only made him want to push her that much more. Gendry escorted her all the way back to the door of her room to make sure that was where she went. Arya turned around and looked up at him. "What's it like to kiss someone?"

"What?... Why would you ask me that?" His heart started pounding. This was actually happening to him.

"I want to know why Jon would be there every night." Arya said flatly.

He really needed Jon to talk to his little sister. "How is someone so small such a pain in my arse?"

Arya crossed her arms over her chest. "Well are you going to tell me?"

"I'm sure there are plenty of little lords that would be happy to show you." Arya looked down and bit her lip while mumbling something. "What did you say?" His voice was softer this time.

Arya looked straight at him. "Not Arya horse face."

"Horse face?"

"It's what they call me." Arya looked back down.

Gendry gently turned her chin up towards him making Arya look at him. "They lie Arya." He wanted to kiss her more than anything he ever wanted before in his life. Gendry stepped back. "Good night Arya and stay out of the tents." Arya's eyes burned into him as he stepped further away from her. It was like she had wanted him to kiss her. He knew nothing good would come from that. She already held his attention; he couldn't give her his heart too.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now i'm starting to feel guilty about not posting on my other story so make up chapter again on this one. I am going to try stepping away from the other one for a short time to see if something will come forcing it is not working. Thanks for your patience with me. As always i own nothing and let me know what you think this chapter kinda changes things. :) Also I apologize if people are wanting more of the pairings but so far this story seems to be focused on the main plot for right now. Things will heat up later on that's why I labeled it M.

Chapter 12- Robb Stark

Everything was changing, his responsibilities, his sisters, his brother, his entire life. The ride outside the walls had changed Myrcella too. She looked at him now, really looked at him. Their conversations even though there weren't many were real. He had found out more about her. One thing he found out was that her mother despised him for taking Myrcella outside of Winterfell. Robb wasn't sure how to make Queen Cersei happy, and now Myrcella wasn't allowed to leave the castle walls again, not that he was planning on taking her. They spent most of their time together in the glass gardens and the kennels. Occasionally Tommen would accompany them. Myrcella was absolutely stunning to him, when she was with her brother. She smiled and laughed freely. He hoped that King Robert would grant permission to keep Tommen in the North.

Unfortunately, he hadn't had the chance to talk to the king since he had discovered who Jon's mother was. Nobody dared to go near King Robert, except for his father. His brother would barely speak to anybody in the family except for Arya, which was why Robb was looking for Jon to make him talk. Robb headed to the forge. That was the one place Jon was seen regularly. The other was the tents, but there was little going on there this time of day. The witch definitely had her spell on his brother, and it had nothing to do with magic. Robb entered the forge.

Gendry was leaning against one wall and Jon and Arya sat laughing on the other side of the room. "Gendry, Arya" He greeted. "Jon may I speak with you?" Jon stood to join him; he glanced back at his sister and had a second thought about leaving her alone with Gendry. It was Arya so he stepped outside.

Robb and Jon walked silently towards the Godswood. They went the large rock beneath the ancient Weirwood tree and sat side by side. He knew Jon wasn't going to speak first, so he did. "How are you?" It was a terrible question, but it was all he had.

"Did King Stark tell you?" Jon said quietly.

"He told me some of it." Robb didn't care for the way Jon said 'King Stark.'

"We are not brothers, only cousins." Jon was watching a few red leaves that were scattered on the ground.

"No Jon, we are brothers. We always will be."

Jon smirked and shoved his shoulder. "You are turning soft brother." Robb shoved Jon off the rock. Jon bounced back up quickly with a smile. They lunged at each other and both fell to the ground, wrestling like young boys. Wrestling was harder now than it used to be, since they both wore swords strapped to their hips. "Yield" Jon said, twisting Robb's arm behind his back.

"Never" Robb sank to his knees, pulling Jon over his shoulders onto the ground. They wrestled until the ground was churned up and sweat coated both of them, neither of them wanting to give into the other.

Eventually they heard laughter coming from behind them and they froze mid grapple. "It is good to see some things never change." His father smiled at both of them and they broke apart.

"Father" He stood up smiling.

"Your Grace." Jon ducked his head as he stood next to him.

"Jon, we are alone you do not need to call me that." His father said as his smile fell.

Jon looked at him before looking back to Ned. "I am not sure what to call you."

Ned sat in his normal spot beneath the white tree. "You can call me father if you wish, if not Ned will work. I know this cannot be easy for you, but I still see you as my son, even if you are not of my seed."

Jon visibly relaxed as he sat on the ground. Robb sat next to him; they had done this so many times before in their youth. "Did he take her?" Jon asked.

Ned took a long steady breath. "Yes and no, Lyanna never would have left if Rhaegar would not have asked. He was going to marry her and have two wives." Jon picked at the grass beneath his feet.

"Why didn't you tell Jon sooner?" He asked, making both of them look at him.

"Jon saw Robert's rage and that was after 17 years. It was safer for Jon to keep my promise and raise Lyanna's child as my own." Jon nodded as if he understood. He understood too but hated that Jon had to find out like he did. It was peaceful in the Godswood and it made him think back on the past. Their father taught them so many things underneath the leaves of the Weirwood tree. "How is the Princess?" Ned asked him.

"She worries about me." He said, messing with a stitch on his breeches.

His father and Jon both laughed. "Your mother worries every time I step outside our gates. It's what women do." Robb chuckled; he saw his mother fuss over his father so many times, and he liked that Myrcella was already starting to worry about him.

Ned pulled Ice and was polishing the blade, when Jon broke the silence. "I want to show you both something." Jon said standing; he pulled his sword, but it wasn't the one that was given to him when he came of age.

"Where did you get that?" He questioned his brother.

"Mollen gave it to me." Jon said quietly.

Ned touched the blade. "Do you know what this is son?"

It was a beautiful blade,, and there was no denying that it was Valyrian steel. "Blackfyre" Jon whispered. Robb stared at the blade harder not believing it to be true.

Ned turned the blade over. "Aye, this is Blackfyre. When I was a boy I memorized every great blade."

"I tried to give it back, but it is an insult to return a gift where she is from." Jon said, trying to defend the elaborate gift.

"If she wants you to have it, then you have to keep it." He couldn't believe that Jon considered giving it back. Their father agreed.

"Be careful who you show this to Jon." Their father cautioned. Jon nodded his understanding. "If you will excuse me boys I must pray." Their father dismissed them.

"Yes father" He and Jon said at the same time and walked away from their sanctuary.

When they reached the edge of the Godswood, Robb stopped and turned to Jon. "Are you lying with her?"

Jon's mouth opened and closed in shock. "No! She is a friend."

"But you kissed her?" He pressed the issue.

"Yes" Jon's temper was starting to show.

"Be careful brother, women like that have ruined men before."

"Women like what?" Jon was getting angry now; he knew he had to tread carefully.

"The tents are meant to lure men in, and the women trained to keep them happy."

"Mollen is no whore." Jon stepped back.

"Jon, just be careful she is full of tricks." Robb pleaded.

"It is no business of yours Robb." Jon walked away from him quickly. He cursed himself, and his brother for being so naive. Now, he knew that he was going to have to have a talk with Mollen to make sure that Jon did not get hurt.

After a few steadying breaths, Robb walked back towards the main hall to finish with some of his duties. Bran came running up to him breathless, before he could reach the heavy doors. "Robb, Robb"

"Breath Bran, what is it?"

"I was climbing the tumble down tower."

"Mother told you not to climb." He reminded his brother with a smile.

"I know, but I was almost to the top. There were these noises from inside, but that's not what I wanted to tell you." Bran shook his head. Robb was losing his patience.

"What then?"

"There are men riding fast towards us."

That was news. "Did you see who?"

"No banners fly with them."

"Go tell father in the Godswood, Hurry!" Bran turned and ran. Robb moved quickly to the front gates and sent for Jory. He had the men alert and watching for the riders by the time that Jory and his father arrived.

"Have we seen who it is yet?" Jory asked.

"Not yet, they are making a lot of dust." The men sat atop the wall waiting for someone to come into view.

The waiting seemed to drag on until one of the guards yelled out. "It's Crows your grace."

The Night's watch was never in a hurry to get to them. The heavy metal gates raised at his father's command. Men in black started to stream inside. Man after man filed into Winterfell.

Uncle Benjen was the last to cross through the gates. "Close the gates Ned." His father nodded and the heavy gates crashed down into place once again. Just as they did, men topped the hill leading to Winterfell.

"Who are they?" He asked his uncle.

"Free folk, the Wall has fallen." Benjen said loudly. There was stunned silence across the yard.

"How is that possible?" Ned questioned; his voice was full of disbelief.

"Too few men and the Horn of Winter, Mance Rayder brought down the Wall."

Jon pushed through and was standing next to Ned and Benjen. "Old magic wakes." Jon whispered.

"What did you say?" Benjen questioned.

"Old magic wakes, It is what Mollen told me. She is out there we have to open the gates."

"We will. Get some men and have Luwin send out ravens. We ride to Wintertown." Ned started organizing the men before he turned to him. "Robb get a group of men armed and ride into the Wolfswood. Robert needs to get back here."

He didn't waste words only hurried back to get his armor after gathering several men to take with him. He was in the middle of buckling on his mail when Myrcella appeared at his door. "What is happening?" She seemed scared.

Robb looked at her. "There are wildlings coming towards Winterfell. I am to ride out and find your father."

"You cannot" Myrcella ordered, making Robb look up. He was shocked at the forcefulness of her voice. "Forgive me my lord."

He smiled at her. "I will be fine Myrcella. I am not going alone."

"Take my uncle."

"You need someone here."

"Please Robb." Her plea stirred something deep within him. She cared.

"If he is ready to go." Robb finished with his armor and looked up at Myrcella again.

"Be careful." Myrcella ordered.

"I will." He pressed a quick kiss to her forehead and hurried out to the stables. Jamie Lannister was waiting for him. He didn't bother speaking with him just mounted his horse and headed for the gates. The men all followed; when they reached the gates, his father stopped him.

"Find Robert and get back, we are going to secure the town." Robb gave a nod and rode hard towards the Wolfswood. The men followed him closely. Most of those with him were from the King's Landing party and didn't know where they were going. Robb ducked in and out of the tress as he rode. Jamie Lannister rode to his right and Theon to his left. He knew where the hunting party would be going, so he cut through the woods instead of following the game trails. They crashed through the forest, scattering the wildlife. The cursing from the edge of a small clearing scattered the birds in the trees.

King Robert stepped out. "What is the meaning of this boy?" Robert yelled at him.

"I am sorry Your Grace;, the Wall has fallen and wildlings ride for Winterfell."

"Saddle up!" Robert ordered and went for his horse without another word. It didn't take very long for the hunting party to pack and hurry back. As they neared the gates they could hear swords crashing, men dying, and a heavy smoke hung in the air. They pushed the horses harder to get to the gates. When they broke through the woods, Winterfell's gates stood open. There were rough looking men in tattered furs robbing the dead.

King Robert charged the gates sword drawn. Robb stayed in shocked silence as the rest of the party advanced on Winterfell. "Are we going to sit and watch or join in the fun?' Jamie Lannister asked with an arrogant smile.

"Why are you still here? The king"

"The King has four other guards. I promised Myrcella you would come back alive."

"I don't need your protection Kingslayer." Robb kicked his horse towards his bleeding home. There were many men fighting throughout the grounds. The sounds were drowned out by his beating heart. He began the dance as soon as his feet touched the ground. Slashing, stabbing, ducking, blocking over and over again, he worked his way across the yard. The flash of Jamie's sword would come into view occasionally, telling him that he Kingslayer was close. The soldiers of Winterfell were winning, but the wildling force was persistent. The fighting grew thicker the closer to the main hall he got. He caught sight of Jon fighting in the crowd. His brother was fighting towards the hall as well. The fear for his family would cross his mind, but he had to push it out and concentrate on the fight. It could have been hours or minutes; he did not know, but the fighting grew to an end. Winterfell's grounds were painted red, along with his blade.

Wildling bodies and soldiers alike littered the yard. This was his home and they had invaded it. "Well fought young wolf." Jamie slapped him on the back, bringing him out of his head.

"You as well Lannister."

Jon moved towards him with a slight limp. "Are you hurt?" Jon asked.

"I believe I am fine, Father?"

"He took a spear to the leg." Robb swallowed hard.

"Mother and the other women?"

"Men are searching the castle now, a few have gotten in." Jon was angry; he could tell by the way his brother carried himself.

"They are safe." He hoped out loud. Jamie was walking next to him towards the main hall. Jon stepped in line with him and Gendry joined them as they went to find the rest of their family.

"I'm sorry Jon the tents were destroyed. The women were either taken or dead." Gendry informed Jon.

Jon clenched his jaw. He hadn't even thought about the women in the tents. Several screams shattered the air. "The women!" The men shouted; every capable man started running towards the shattered doors of the main dinning hall. The room behind the great hall was where the ladies of the castle were supposed to be during a siege. The door was still barred, but the wood was ripped away from the frame. Thoughts of his mother, sisters, young brothers, and Myrcella flashed through his head, and for the first time that day he was truly scared.

Robb started shoving bodies out of the way, trying to get further into the room. Jon crawled through the splintered door first, followed by himself, Jamie and Gendry. There were dying and dead men scattered on the floor. The women were pressed up against the back wall. A few that had fainted were being fanned by women in thin silk dresses. Robb looked around the room. Arya stood in front of the rest of the women; her grey dress splattered with gore and a blade in her hand. Next to her stood Mollen dressed in leather breeches and a top that barely covered her torso, painted blood red. Arya was breathing hard but Mollen stared calmly at Jon. His eyes moved past the first two in the room; where he saw Bran, Rickon and Tommen's eyes still wide with fright, holding bows looking for a target. Myrcella stepped forward with tears in her eyes. He couldn't stop himself; he hurried to her side and wrapped his arms around her. Relief flooded through him. He couldn't believe how worried he was about her safety.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13- Ned Stark

The searing pain in his leg was almost unbearable, but he had to know the damage to his home. Maester Luwin reluctantly agreed to wrap his leg, so he could survey the damage. He knew that Robb managed to find Robert and bring them back. They needed the extra men after the gate failed somehow. He had heard that his wife was unharmed but had not been able to go and find out for himself. He was proud that both of his sons fought bravely. Jon came to his side and handed him a walking stick. "Gather the bodies and find out how many men we lost." Ned looked out over the men mending the shattered pieces of his castle.

Robert was moving towards him. "Hell of a fight Ned." Robert had cuts across his arms but appeared to be uninjured. Gendry was at his side carrying a war hammer just like Robert's. "What the fuck happened up North? Why are so many of those bastards at your gates?"

"The Wall has fallen and the King-Beyond-the-Wall marches south." Ned said completely exhausted.

"How did they get through the gates?"

"I am not sure." Ned thought about Mollen climbing his walls on more than one occasion. It was possible that she destroyed the gate. "We will see to the wounded and send out ravens. Hopefully the Northern Lords haven't been hit already; if not they need to know what is happening."

"That they do. I'll send word south and get some men marching north. We need to take care of this."

"Aye" Ned nodded and turned to his men that were close to him. "Get some men and buckets we need to get that fire out." The Sept was on fire and they needed to stop it from spreading.

Out of the corner of his eye he caught Robb running towards him. "Father!" Robb tried to breathe. "Sansa is missing!" Ned tried to focus on what Robb was saying. "Mother said she was going to the Sept when the attack was signaled."

"Move!" Ned yelled at the men. Ned hobbled across the yard as quickly as he could. There was no noise from inside, but Lady paced outside looking for a way in. "Sansa is in there." Bucket after bucket was poured on the blaze, nothing helped. A scream from above stopped the men in their tracks. It was Sansa, high in the air, too high to jump to safety. "Get ladders!" The men tried to get close enough to lean a ladder against the inferno but failed. When he looked up again, Sandor Clegane was staring back down at him with a grim look on his face. Sandor nodded once. Ned swallowed hard; he knew that the Hound wouldn't let his little girl burn to death if they failed to get her out.

"Your Grace" A woman's voice came form behind him. When Ned turned around, Robb was being restrained from running inside and Jon was holding tightly to Mollen's arm. "I can help."

"Mollen No" Jon clutched her arm tighter.

"How?" He asked, desperate for a way to save his daughter. Mollen broke free of Jon's grasp and walked straight into the fire. The flames parted for her as she entered. The movement in the yard stopped as the men watched. The window above them was empty now. The men started putting water on the blaze again, trying to calm it. There was no movement from inside, only the sound of the crackling fire. Lady whined. It had been too long. They were gone; they had to be. The men made sure the fire wouldn't spread, but nothing could be done about the Sept but to let it burn. All of the men were staring into the flames, when a giant shadow filled the frame of the door. Sandor Clegane stepped out of the smoke carrying a sobbing Sansa. "Get them water."

Sandor coughed. "Fuck your water Stark, give me wine." Ned nodded to a southern squire for the wine. Sandor carried Sansa a safe distance away from the flames, before setting her gently on the ground. Ned kneeled down next to his daughter and hugged her.

"Where's Mollen?" Jon asked, watching the flames.

Sandor took a big pull of wine and glanced at the fire. "The witch was behind me." Ned looked back at the fire. The building was engulfed and looked like it was about to collapse on itself. The flames seemed to be growing. Robb was next to his sister holding her hand, while Jon just watched the flames. The men gave up fighting the fire, when the flames died completely. Mollen stepped out of the smoke filled door without a single burn. Ned stared in disbelief with the rest of the men. Sandor mumbled curses about a fire witch next to him.

Sansa coughed, bringing his attention back to his daughter. "Robb bring Sansa to the Maester and make sure Clegane is looked at as well." Jon was slowly walking towards Mollen; he followed him. Mollen's eyes were hot silver color. When Jon reached for her, Ned pulled Jon back. "Careful Jon"

"She will not hurt me." Jon stood next to her. He wished he had some clue about magic so he knew how to proceed. The men all stepped away from the girl as if she were poison.

She finally looked at her surroundings. "Don't touch me." Mollen's voice was strained as if she was fighting for control. Jon stepped back as if he was struck. Mollen slowly walked away; the men parted for her.

"Leave her be for now Jon." Jon watched her leave before he nodded. "We have work to do. Get Mikken to fix the damn gate."

"Mikken is dead Your Grace along with his apprentice." Jon told him quietly.

"I can try to fix it Your Grace." Gendry, who had been trying to put out the fire, stepped forward.

"See what you can do." Ned sent men around to take stock of the dead and get the injured to the Maester. Several men were finding wood to secure the doors and others were piling the dead wildlings outside the gates. Benjen told him that they burnt their dead, so he would do that for them. He spent all day among his men getting them where they needed to go. The gate was lowered but had not been completely repaired. He longed to see his wife to make sure she was well, but his duties kept him busy through out the day. He lost a few good men in the battle, so had Robert. Fortunately his family was all safe. Jon had a cut on his thigh and Robb had opened his stitches again. but everyone was breathing.

Some of the ladies in the castle were busy cleaning the blood from the stones. Everyone was helping out. Even the wolves were around; Bran was using his wolf like a horse to move debris. His boy had a knack for structures; Bran was helping restructure several damaged buildings. Most worked late into the night before going to the great hall to dine. None of the supplies were raided, so the food stock was fine. The men managed to get several barrels of the wine from the tents moved inside. It was about the only thing that was salvageable; most of the women were dead or possibly taken. The handful of women, that were still left from the tents, offered to help wherever they were needed; he was grateful for any help he could get regardless of their background.

Robert was sitting across form him refusing wine. The possibility of another battle always curbed his appetites. The hall wasn't as noisy as it normally was. The men ate in a muffled silence. The loss of friends and family hung over all of them. He lost Rodrick Cassel, Mikken and Harwin along with several others and Jory was injured. The children were talking excitedly about the battle. Arya stared into her drink and Robb talked quietly with Benjen. Sansa stayed in her room to rest; she was upset but unharmed by the flames. The newly made doors swung open and Jon walked towards him with Mollen right behind him. All of Winterfell heard about the fire, and they watched her walk up the long walkway to the raised table they were seated at. He knew he would have to deal with the woman eventually but there were bigger things to deal with right now. "Is that her?" Catelyn asked, watching the woman moving towards them.

"Aye"

"It was magic?"

"I know not what it was." He had tried to explain it to himself since the flames died.

"Your Grace" Jon bowed and Mollen inclined her head.

"Jon, Mollen" He answered, while Robert mumbled something about disrespect but remained eating.

"We need to tell you something."

"Can it wait?" He did not want the entire hall involved in the conversation.

Mollen looked at him but was not seeing him. "The cold winds rise and the dead rise with them." Her words sent a chill down his back.

"Ned, we should hear what she has to say." Benjen said, looking on edge.

"For the love of the Seven, speak woman." Robert ordered.

"I do not care if you believe in the magics of old. It does not change that they wake. Old magic rises and men cannot fight them with your swords." Mollen's voice was soft but her words were clear.

Benjen stood and came to his side. "Ned I know it sounds crazy, but I have seen things. We could use her help." Mollen saved two of his children; he owed her some gratitude, but to believe that magic truly existed was a stretch even after what he had already seen.

"And let some sorceress fight our battles. You can't be considering this Ned." Robert said as he stood up.

Benjen shook his head. "Ned that was a full attack, the wall has fallen and more will come. Something is driving the free folk south."

"We shall speak on this later." He said before the arguments could start. There was so much to discuss. Jon bowed and Mollen dipped her head to him again, ignoring Robert, before walking to an empty table in the back of the room.

"What happened in here?" Robert asked the table. No one was certain what happened in the hall after the doors shattered. The ladies at the table looked down.

"It was scary." Princess Myrcella said quietly.

"Ser Meryn had us move to the back room when the door started to break." Myrcella seemed to be the only one that was willing to speak. He figured that Arya would have been the first to talk and he knew that Catelyn would fill him in if there was anything else he needed to know later tonight. "I saw several more men come through the outside door as they locked us in."

"He was a good knight. He will be missed." Robert said before nodding to his daughter to continue.

"We could hear the shouts and swords clashing from outside. The door started to splinter and broke. A man." Myrcella paused and took a steadying breath. "A man came in and said the most awful things before a blade went through him. There was blood everywhere. The woman that was just here killed him and gave the boys bows. It was quiet for some time. I hoped that it was all over, but more men followed." Ned saw Robb's hand tighten into a fist; it was the same that his hand had done. "Arya said she could fight and was given a blade; she…" Myrcella stopped speaking.

"She what?" Ned asked a little harsher than he intended.

"I killed them." Arya said flatly. His heart broke; his baby girl had taken a life.

"Mollen and I fought the ones that made it past the boy's arrows." Arya spoke as if she talked of the weather. Catelyn had tears in her eyes but none fell. He knew it was the truth. Winter came early for his children, even his young boys had killed today. "Jon, Robb and Gendry came in when the fight was over."

Robert chuckled. "Gods girl, you are as wild as the North, but you'll do."

As much as the situation pained him; his children all fought for their home and lived. Ned nodded to his daughter; he would have to make sure she was alright later, but now he needed to discuss important issues. Ned nodded. "Robert, Benjen we should speak more of this alone. Robb go get Jon and have him bring the girl." Ned stood and the men followed.

Robert walked next to him on the way to one of the larger meeting chambers. "What about this girl?"

"We will hear what she has to say. I want all the information I can get." When they reached the room, Robert sat to his left and Benjen across from him. Robb brought Jon and they sat further down the table. Jamie Lannister remained standing by the door. "What happened Benjen?"

It was time to hear the whole story. Benjen didn't hesitate to start speaking. "Before I came here, I was out ranging. The free folk were all gone. Their villages were empty. There was no sign of them anywhere. Most of my brothers thought that was a good sign, but they were gathering. Mance Rayder organized the free folk, all of them. They marched to the Wall and blew that damned horn. At least that's what Lord Commander Mormont told me. I hadn't made it back before it happened." He knew his brother was feeling guilty about being in Winterfell when the wall was attacked. "There aren't many of us Black brothers left. Most of the ones I have with me were new recruits. I met Mormont on the road. He ordered me south to warn Winterfell and Westeros, before his wounds killed him." Benjen's words sank into the quiet room. "He gave me this before he died." Benjen laid the Valyrian steel blade Longclaw on the table. "He said I would need it." This was the third Valyrian steel blade he had seen in his life.

"Why are they coming south?" He asked his brother, who seemed too lost in thought.

Benjen stared at the blade as he spoke. "The Others and their wights."

Robert scoffed. "Now you sound like the witch. The Others are long gone."

Ned ignored the slight bickering and sent for Mollen. The men went quiet when she stepped in the room. She seemed to have that affect on people. "Mollen, what do you mean when you say old magic wakes?"

"My magic grows stronger and the cold comes." Ned took a deep breath; he was losing his patience, and the girl's cryptic speech was wearing on his nerves. "I do not know your words for them. Old magic made of ice. Normal blades cannot kill them."

"How do you know this girl?" Robert asked.

"Old stories where I am from, but mostly I feel it; my magic grows stronger the further North I go." Ned noticed the skeptical looks on some of the men's faces.

"If they are real how do we stop them?" He wondered out loud.

"Fire and this." Benjen touched his blade that still rested on the table.

"Three blades against an army." Ned said aloud and wished he could take it back. No one knew about Jon's blade.

"Three? Have you been hiding steel from me Ned?" Robert's anger flashed.

"I can make the steel; I cannot shape it." Mollen interrupted, making everyone stare.

"You can make Valyrian Steel?" Jon questioned.

"I can. It is my people's steel. They cannot go south Jon. They will freeze the world, until nothing but death walks." For the first time he saw fear in Mollen's eyes. He could not believe that they were discussing the monsters in old Nan's stories.

Benjen stood and sheathed his blade. "A spear wife once told me; the Horned Lord said that Sorcery is a sword without a hilt. There is no safe way to grasp it." Benjen's words hung in the air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm pretty much incapable of writing anything short. This is getting longer than planned still have no idea about how long it will be. Thanks for reading!


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This picks up exactly where the last chapter ended. Thanks for the reviews, follows, kudos, ect ect... it makes me ridiculously happy that people are still reading this. Game of Thrones is almost here!!! Bring on the tears and hot men. Now on with my ramblings.

Chapter 14- Jon Snow

Mollen looked straight at him when she spoke. "That is truth. Unbound magic is dangerous."

"Your magic is bound?" Jon asked hoping.

"No" Mollen said simply.

"How do you bind it?" Rob asked, growing curious; apparently his brother was a believer now.

"I do not know, even as a child my magic was strong. I had to learn ways to control it, so I did not hurt anyone. It grows stronger still." It amazed him how Mollen could stand in a room with the two most powerful men in Westeros and answer questions that could get her killed without flinching.

"Drawing" He answered quietly putting together pieces.

"Yes and sparring."

King Robert laughed. "Women sparring, now that would be a thing to see." Mollen did not give Robert a second glance and ignored the barb.

"We have much to discuss. I thank you for your words Mollen." Ned dismissed Mollen; he wished to follow, but he also wanted to hear about the plans for Winterfell. "Benjen you know the wildlings the best. How will they attack?"

"Organized chaos, Mance Rayder is their king, but the free folk do as they wish. It will vary from group to group."

Jon thought over the day to day goings on in Winterfell. The men went outside the walls for various reasons everyday. "We should vary our hunting and scouting parties, so we are not so easy a target." He said aloud before thinking.

"Aye, that is good Jon. The Lords from the North are most likely on their way here, so we will know more on what is going on outside our gates. Still, I want Robb to take a group of men and ride out. See if you can spot any camps." His father slipped so easily into the role of King in the North. "Benjen the Night's Watch is yours to command. The black brothers will always be welcome in Winterfell." He bit his tongue, thinking that there was not Night's Watch anymore. Even his dreams crashed around him. "Jon, I want you to secure our walls and make sure we are ready for an attack." Jon nodded at the command, even though he wanted to be scouting beyond the walls with his brother. "Robert I do not know what your plans are."

"I'm staying Ned." Robert cut Ned off.

"Surely you would want to get your family back to King's Landing."

"I'll send Cersei and the other ladies back with my boys as soon as it's safe enough. Gendry will stay here and smith for you, until you find another one." Ned gave a few parting orders and dismissed everyone except Robert. The other king refused to look at or acknowledge him, but there hadn't been another attempt on his life.

Securing the walls of Winterfell would be easy enough; they had been secure for thousands of years. His father, he would never be able to think of him as anything else, was keeping him close. It irritated him that Robb was free to command men, and he was to make sure that there were plenty of arrows on the wall. Gendry stepped out behind him. "How is Arya?" Jon stopped walking for a few moments. He had not really checked on his sister since the attack.

"I do not know. Shall we check on her?"

"I have finished her blade. We can grab it on our way." They walked in silence. Each of them going over the days events in their heads. He lost people today. Mikken, who made his first blade, Rodrick, who taught him how to use it; Harwin was there when he had too much to drink for the first time, and many more. All of them gone so quickly. Gendry grabbed Arya's sword and they crossed the hallways to the Maiden's Corner, as Theon so often called it. The door was ajar when he reached Arya's chamber; he could hear her voice on the other side of the door.

"It was just so easy. The sword slid right through him." Jon stopped in his tracks, when he realized that Arya was speaking about the men she killed.

"The act is easy when your life is in danger. The dead will haunt you for a short time, but remember that you live Arya." Mollen's quiet voice filled the room. Jon reached out and knocked on the door. There was some scrambling on the other side of the door. Arya peeked out before opening the door and pulling him inside. Gendry followed quickly behind him.

"It's just Jon; you can come out Mollen." Arya said as she sat down on her bed. Mollen stepped out from behind a dark dressing screen and joined Arya.

"Mollen" Jon nodded. Gendry still hadn't said one word.

"Shh… Mother told me to stay away from her. What do you want?" Arya glanced at Gendry, who stood stock still behind him. "If you are here to lecture me about fighting, you are too late; mother has already been here."

"No, I heard you fought well." Jon watched Mollen, who said she would tell him what happened later. "I actually wanted to give you something." Gendry handed him the little blade, and he pulled it out of its cover. For the first time in his life, Arya was without words. She gently ran her fingertips over the direwolf etchings, before slowly wrapping her slender fingers around the hilt and picking it up. Arya stared in awe for quite some time.

"This is mine?" She whispered.

"Aye little sister." He smiled and reached out to muss up her hair, only to have his hand swatted away with a scowl. Jon laughed at her as she set her sword down and jumped up for a hug. Arya had grown, but so had he. He would always be able to hug her like she was a child. Arya still hung around his neck. "You should thank Gendry too. He made it." Arya fell to the floor and looked over at his friend. He could have sworn he saw Arya blush before she turned back to Mollen. "It should have a name. All the best blades have names."

Arya turned back to him and Gendry. "Sansa can keep her sewing needles. I have one of my own." Gendry smiled briefly before Arya walked towards his friend. "You made this?"

"Yes mi… Arya." It was a little too amusing watching Gendry stumble over his words. Only his sister made Gendry nervous. Arya jumped up and clung to Gendry's neck. "It's beautiful." She said as Gendry turned red and looked unsure where to put his hands. He was in shock. Arya had never been one for courtesies, but this was far from appropriate.

"Arya" he said firmly, making Arya drop to the floor once again and look awkwardly towards Gendry.

"My apologies." Arya mumbled. Gendry didn't speak; he just shifted uncomfortably. Arya went back to her bed and touched her new sword.

"Gendry, could you escort Mollen to her room. I'd like to speak with my sister." Mollen stood and walked to the door.

Gendry nodded his consent. "Be careful milady, it's sharp." Arya glared at Gendry until he stepped outside of the room. Arya turned her new blade over memorizing every detail.

"Do you like it?" He asked teasingly.

"I love it." Arya said, placing the blade back on her bed.

"You need to keep it hidden."

"Mother will hate it." Arya said, glancing at Needle. He knew that Queen Stark wouldn't approve of his gift, but Arya deserved some happiness.

"Are you doing well?" In such a short time things had changed. Not only had he and his brother killed men, his sister had as well.

"It is strange." Jon nodded as Arya tried to put her feelings into words. It was hard for him to do as well. "The men were coming. I did not know what else to do. Mollen handed me a blade and I was dancing, but they are dead Jon." Arya had always been strong, but he knew she was struggling with what she had done and even more so with sharing what she had done. Jon wrapped his sister in a hug.

"You did what you had to do to survive. Those men were attacking us."

"I know it's just… Mother." Jon took a heavy breath and released Arya from the hug. "She is very angry. She said that no Lord would ever want a wild princess and that I will be a burden to our house." In all his time living with Queen Catelyn, he had never been so angry at her. She could be as cruel as she wanted to him, but to make Arya hurt was too much.

"Arya that is simply not true. If you never marry, Robb would be happy to have you here at Winterfell. Queen Stark does not know the minds of men. Lords may have proper ladies as wives, because that is what is expected of them; but any man would love you. You are different Arya and that is special."

Arya smiled up at him. "Is that why you like Mollen, because she is different."

Jon pulled away from his sister and looked at her, unsure of how to answer. "Where did you hear that?"

Arya stood up and walked around the room. "From the stable boys, they say she is the only one you visit."

"What else have you heard?"

"That she can do magic. Can she?" Arya asked as if she were asking if he wanted water.

"She can and I visited the tents for wine and stories, not women." Arya watched him for a few moments taking in his words.

"I'm tired and want to sleep." Arya was dismissing him, which meant she didn't believe what he said. "Thank you for Needle. I will love it always."

"Good night Arya." He said before Arya kissed his cheek, stunning him momentarily. It was very un-Arya like.

Jon left his sister feeling thoroughly questioned and as if he failed some task. Mollen was not in her chambers, which she shared with the remaining women from the tents. There were not many left, only four and Mollen. Unable to find her, Jon walked quickly to the walls to determine what he needed to do to secure the outer walls. After his first round, he ordered barrels of rocks to be hauled up and placed around theouter edge of the walls, waiting for water to be dumped inside of the barrels. He also had the younger men stuffing old shirts with straw, so they would be ready to be propped up at night, so their numbers seemed larger. Thousands upon thousands of arrows were being packed to the locations the best archers would be placed. The first wave of his preparations was complete. The rest depended on how and when the wildings attacked. Jon paced the length of the west wall of the castle. There were many men on lookout and it wasn't necessary for him to be up there, but he didn't know where else to be. Jon leaned out on one of the walkways, looking below into the darkness. "You have done much work." The voice made him jump. There was no one around moments before. Mollen stood before him in her leather clothes, with no cloak.

"Are you not cold?" He asked in disbelief. Mollen's shoulders were bare; she only smiled.

"Not yet, my magic still warms me." She could control fire, so it shouldn't surprise him that she was able to warm herself but it did. All the talk of magic still surprised him.

"Thank you for speaking with my father. I know that was not easy for you." They had talked about so much in her tent, and he knew how much she disliked talking about her magic. The last time they were together alone; he barely managed to convince her that he was trying to keep her from getting in trouble, when he paid for the kiss. However, she was more distant now; he hadn't been able to try and kiss her again. He really wanted to kiss her again. Not that it mattered anymore. Her world was shattered during the attack. Part of him was grateful for that; because, she wouldn't be leaving soon which made him feel guilty. Jon walked with Mollen as they wandered the wall. He noticed that her hand would trail into the water filled barrels. Every time the liquid would turn to ice. "Mollen you do not have to do that. The water will be frozen soon enough."

Mollen continued to walk, ignoring his complaint, so he followed. "They came quickly. The women were sleeping for the day. I heard the first scream then the guards fighting. I changed quickly and found my weapons. I was not supposed to keep them, but I could not get rid of them. There were so many when I came out. Some women were being dragged off and some killed. I helped the ones I could. The girls could not climb the walls as I do, so I fought and we waited. When the gates opened, I hoped that help would come; but men just went in, none came out." Mollen was lost in the past as he watched her speak. "I fought through the men who came near us. I thought that the stones walls of the castle would be safe, so that is where I took us. The large doors were already broken when we got there. The white knight was dying on the floor as the men worked on the smaller doors in the back. They shattered and I heard the screams. That was where I went. Men followed me as took my girls to the ladies of the castle. Arya said she could fight, so I gave her my second blade. We fought the men that got through. That is what happened Jon." Mollen finished speaking, when she touched the last barrel.

"I am sorry about your friends." Jon laid his hand on hers, making her look at him.

"Some were friends others were not." Mollen looked at the bleeding star in the sky and smiled softly. He briefly wondered what it meant to her people.

He knew that she had no love for the man that owned her and wasn't sorry to see him dead. "What will you do now?" He wasn't sure he wanted the answer.

"I will stay North, even if I cannot stay here. The old ones will take us all. I will do what I can."

Jon felt a chill run down his spine. "How do we stop it?"

"I do not know Jon. I wish I did. Magic is not as strong as it was and mine is not enough." They started walking back towards their rooms. He wasn't sure what to say to her. That was how it was with them. They would speak of many things, when they ran out of words, it was just quiet. Her room was packed with women; she managed to save. There was barely room to sit down.

Jon glanced in the room and back to Mollen. "You could stay with me?" It was not proper; however, Mollen viewed things differently, and he wanted her to be comfortable.

"That is nice of you, but they need me. Good night Jon Snow." Mollen smiled as she shut the door.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't get much a response from the last chapter so i thought i would put up another one. Hope you enjoy I took a small break from the main plot to focus on the characters. ie. Gendry as requested a brief one sided smut in this one I did rate it M. You've been warned. Thanks for those who continue to let me know you are reading by reviewing and also to those who give kudos and those who drive up my hit count. It makes me unreasonably happy. One more day!

Chapter 15- Gendry Waters

The room was hot and stuffy as he lay in his feather bed, staring at the ancient beams over his head. Arya hugged him. It was good that Jon was there, or he wouldn't have been able to stop himself from wrapping his arms around her and holding her tighter. Even now he could feel her slim body pressed firmly against his, her firm breasts teasing his chest. Gendry groaned as his cock continued to throb. It was late into the night, when he took himself in hand to the feeling of Arya against his body. His thoughts were only on her as he worked himself, over and over, up and down. He pictured her, her firm body and wild grey eyes staring up at him, panting, growling, and scratching at his back. His movements became jerky as his pleasure built to its crescendo, before he came into his hand. The heart in his chest started to slow as he came down from his peak. Her name was still a repeating song in his head. Gendry wiped his seed from his hands and stomach and tried to settle in for sleep. Sleep would not come, as soon as he settled down his thoughts turned back to Arya. Gendry scrambled out of his bed. Sleep would not find him this night.

The frigid cold outside helped cool his blood, as he made his way to the forge. Ned Stark was depending on him to fix Winterfell's gates, so that was what he was going to focus on. The previous day he spent time with a man, who understood the mechanics of the gates. The counter balance was damaged during the attack. He had a small boy crawl down and fish out the shattered pieces, since he was too large to squeeze between the mechanisms. The pieces scattered before him were not going together. The sun rose long ago and he was still trying to make the pieces fit. Without the gear the gate wouldn't be opened or closed easily. There was a blast of cold air that hit him; he didn't turn to look, it was usually Jon coming to talk him into sparring. "What are you doing?" Gendry jumped slightly at her voice. Arya was trying to look over his shoulder.

"What are you doing here princess?" Arya hit his shoulder making him laugh. "I'm trying to put this back together, so I know what it looks like to build another one."

Arya moved closer to his work bench. Her side was touching his leg, making it hard for him to focus on what he was doing. "You are missing a piece." Arya moved the shattered shards around. She had the pieces rearranged correctly.

"How do you know?"

"I saw Mikken fix it once." Arya's voice was thick with sadness for a moment.

"I'll need the other piece." He said more to himself than her; as he looked at the puzzle in front of him.

"Let's go get it." Arya hurried to the door.

"No Arya…" She slipped outside, leaving him to do the only thing he could do, follow her. The side room, with the workings of the gate, was under guard, but the they didn't even take a second look as Arya slipped past them. Arya removed her cloak and was in her breeches again. "What are you doing?" He asked as Arya removed another item of clothing. His heart jumped when it pulled at her tunic, showing him the skin above her waist.

"I am going back there to find your piece."

"It's dangerous you could be smashed." He tired to argue with her.

Arya rolled her eyes. "The gate is broken. How will it smash me?" He didn't have a reply, not that he had time for one. Arya slipped between the heavy wheels and cogs quickly.

"You find anything?" Gendry asked impatiently.

"Hold on." Arya yelled back at him, just as annoyed as he was, which made him smile. "Can you pick this up?"

"What?"

Arya poked her head out between a space in the wheels. "This" She pointed at a heavy wheel. "It fell underneath it." It was a large, wood wheel with metal bands to large to lift by hand.

"You want me to lift that?"

"If you want your piece you have to." Arya snapped. He looked around the room, found an iron bar, and wedged it underneath the wheel. "Okay on three." Arya said, slipping between the cracks again. "Don't drop it on me!" She yelled from the other side.

"I'm not going to drop it, just hurry. Are you ready?"

"One… two… three." Arya yelled out to him. Gendry shoved down on the bar and slowly lifted the wheel of off the ground. His arms were straining with effort and started aching from the strain. He felt like it would come crashing down at any moment and wasn't sure how much longer before he dropped it completely. "Got it!" Arya yelled, and he set the wheel down with a soft crash.

"Arya?" It was quiet. Arya pulled herself up on top of the large wheel and was watching him from above. She tossed down the missing piece. "Get down from there."

Arya smiled. "No"

"Arya get down before you fall."

"Make me." She was being extremely childish and actually stuck her tongue out at him.

Gendry's anger flared; he jumped up and grabbed her ankle, pulling her down. Arya let out a small shriek of surprise. He kept a firm hold on her as her body slid down the wheel and his body. Arya was pressed between him and the wheel. Her hips were even with his, and her feet dangled freely. "As milady commands." He said a bit breathless. Arya didn't punch or kick him, but stared up at him with wide grey eyes; her mouth parted in a surprised 'o'. He should put her down and step away, but he was lost in her wild grey eyes. He couldn't bring himself to let go of her. They stayed like that for several frozen moments. "Arya." Gendry whispered against her ear.

"Gendry" Arya's voice was barely heard over the hammering in his chest.

His traitorous mind whispered 'Stark and Waters' back to him, making him set her back on the ground and step back. "My apologies milady." He ducked his head.

"Don't" Arya demanded as she stared angrily at him.

"I shouldn't have."

"You stupid bull headed bastard." Arya shoved passed him and ran out of the door. He grabbed her cloak and slowly followed. The guards threw him an angry glare as he passed them. By the time he got away from the gates; Arya was already gone. The only option he had was to go back to this forge. It wouldn't do him any good to chase Arya through Winterfell.

He threw the missing piece on the table next to the others. His anger at himself was starting to reach its boiling point. Gendry grabbed a breast plate, beyond repair, and shoved it into the hot coals. When the steel burned red hot, he pulled it out of the heat and began pounding on the armor. Every stroke of the hammer, he mumbled to himself.

Clang "Stupid" Clang "Bullheaded" Clang "Bastard" Clang over and over again. He was an idiot. The armor plate wasn't getting any better, not that it was why he was doing it to begin with.

Jon walked in with someone behind him; he didn't notice until Jon spoke. "Is everything alright Gendry." There was worry in his friend's voice. The hammer fell against the ruined steel one more time.

"Jon" Guilt flooded through him one more. He knew he never should have touched Arya. If she mentioned what he did, King Stark would remove his hands at best and his head at worst. There was no longer the Wall to choose anymore. "What can I do for you?" Gendry finally managed to look up and past Jon; he couldn't look at his friend for long. Mollen stood at the door watching the fire.

"We need your skills." Jon said with a nod towards the forge.

"I have to finish with the gate first; then I'm yours."

Jon walked closer and eyed the breast plate, raising an eyebrow, but didn't say a word about it. "We may have need for Valyrian Steel."

Gendry snorted and shoved the breast plate back into the hot coals. "Sure Jon, I'll just pull some out of the storage room."

"What is your deal today?" Jon snapped with a frown.

He took a deep breath. "Jon, no one knows how to make Valyrian Steel. The secrets died with the dragons."

"Mollen knows and you can shape it."

Gendry looked at Jon and then to Mollen. Neither of them seemed to be jesting. "I can't make Valyrian Steel. I'm just a 'prentice. That's work for a master smith." He knew he was decent but not even close to that level of skill.

"Mollen says once the steel is melted; it's just like making any other blade." Mollen was silent since she stepped inside.

"What do I need to do?" Despite his doubts, he was the only person that had any skill as a smith in Winterfell.

"Mollen will make a list for you." Jon said.

"I cannot write your words." Mollen said quietly still watching the fire.

"I can write the list if she tells me." He said reluctantly.

Jon slapped him on the back. "Good I will be back shortly." Jon walked to the door and said a few quiet words to Mollen, before leaving him alone with her. The eerie silence filled the room. Only the hiss of the coals was to heard.

"I am sorry for your friends." Gendry said, shifting uncomfortably; he was one of the first people at the gate when it failed and saw the destroyed tents.

Mollen made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. "I thank you for your concern." Mollen stepped towards him and the flames. Gendry took an involuntary step back. "I make you nervous." She said into the flames.

"Not nervous… uncertain." He wasn't sure why she put him on edge.

"You have Targaryen blood in you. No?" Mollen stared at the flames as if they spoke to her.

Gendry thought back on his history lessons. "Yes, I believe so."

"You feel my magic. Most simply fear me because they know of my magic, but you can feel it. It is how they used to find us."

"Who?"

"The people of Valaria, it is not important. Jon can feel it as well. He is not much different than I am." Gendry scrunched his brows up. He had never seen Jon do magic.

"I am not sure I am the person for this."

"I have seen Arya's sword. You do beautiful work."

He wasn't used to praise. "That is regular steel."

Mollen looked up from the hot embers. "I am the one that will do the magic. Once that is done, it will be the same as a regular blade."

"What do I need?"

"I need to prepare a place to heat the metal. It burns hotter, possibly something with stone."

"I'll have a deep mill wheel brought up." Mollen nodded her approval; he showed her some of his tools and the rest of the forge. She said she would prepare the tools and the wheel at the same time. The list was full of herbs and rocks she said she needed. Jon returned and took Mollen with him, after promising to return when the wheel arrived. He wasn't exactly certain he was excited about her coming back. Being the first smith to forge Valyrian steel in a long time was exciting as well as nerve wracking. Gendry finally left the forge.

Lancel Lannister found him in the yard and told him that King Robert wanted him to join the king for a private meal. Gendry took a deep breath and found the hallway that led to King Robert's private chambers. Robert was sitting at a small round table with food already being served. "Gendry, sit down boy." Robert said as soon as he neared the table.

"Yes your grace." The queen wasn't around neither was his half brothers and sister.

"How do you like Winterfell?" Robert asked between bites.

"It has been exciting."

Robert laughed around his food. "A good battle is always exciting. You fought well. I'm proud to call you my son."

Gendry nodded and took a bite of his ham. "How is King Stark's leg?"

"Just a flesh wound. It takes more than that to kill a Stark. The sorceress came to see you?"

He knew there was reason for this visit. "She did."

"Do you know how to make the steel yet?"

"She hasn't said the spells."

"If she can; this girl has got everyone chattering like women, and that bastard wrapped around her little finger." Gendry took a quick breath at the mention of Jon. That was the first time that the king had spoken to him about Jon. "He's a friend of yours?"

"He is" He felt like he was crossing thin ice.

"A fucking Targaryen was under my nose all of these years." Robert shook his head. "The prince took her and raped her. My chosen brother lied to me." Robert took another drink and laughed without any humor. "My heir is a craven who runs from a fight. Why the hell did they give me this bloody crown?" Robert continued to drink and talk. It occurred to him that Robert had nobody. King Stark was close to his wife and had people around him he could trust.

"You won the crown, and I'm sure the Prince had a reason to run."

"He ran because his enemy didn't care about his titles or his orders. The little cunt ran back to his mother's skirts." Robert took another drink and sat back in his chair, looking truly miserable. He had no love for Joffrey and wasn't really surprised at his actions.

"Tommen stood and fought." Robert laughed.

"That he did. My bastard and my youngest held their own at least. What are your thoughts on this woman and her magic?"

"She puts me on edge, but I trust Jon and he trusts her."

"Trust a Targaryen, that will get you killed." Robert raised his voice.

"Jon is a good man. King Stark raised Jon, not a Targaryen." Robert stared across the table at him.

"If you didn't look like me, I wouldn't think you were mine."

"I am still not sure I am." He said before he could stop himself.

Robert laughed. "Careful, that temper may just get your head on a spike." Gendry swallowed his mead slowly. He still had a hard time accepting King Robert as his father. During the battle, they had fought side by side. It was easy to believe Robert was his father then and it almost made him proud of him. However, when he was a loud drunken fool, working his way through every woman that would have him, it was easier to believe it was a mistake.

One of the Kingsguard stepped inside the room; he didn't bother to look at which one. "Lady Arya Stark." The man announced.

Gendry stood as she entered. "Your Grace" Arya curtsied awkwardly.

"Lady Arya" Robert said from his seat. "What do we owe the pleasure?"

Arya glanced at him briefly. "My father would like to speak with you. There has been a rider."

"And he sent his daughter as a messenger." His father was amused. The only thing he was capable of doing was staring at Arya.

"I was going this way." Arya said strongly, unaffected by the king before her.

"Have you met my son?"

"We've met." Arya glanced at him. "If that's all your grace."

"Tell him I will speak with him on the morrow." Arya nodded and left without looking at him again. Gendry stared at the door. "Are you just going to stand there looking a fool? The food's getting cold." Robert's words snapped him back to attention. "She turned into a pretty little thing, more trouble than she is worth perhaps. If I didn't already have a wife…"

"No!"

"Want her for yourself?" The wine in Robert's glass spilled over the rim as he laughed. He did. Arya was amazing,beautiful, and funny; no other woman could compare. "Get those thoughts out of your head boy. Not even I could talk Ned into giving his daughter to a bastard."


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! I honestly thought that i posted this already. I was wrong. Thank you all for the awesome reviews. One thing i gather from them in this story and my other is that people like my Gendry!! I love his character and he is fun to write. The next chapter is going to be the women's POV's i couldn't keep them out but i'm not sure they'll be back. I wish that HBO could make more than just 10 episodes a year this season feels rushed to me and i'm in no hurry for it to end. :( Anyways here is some Robb because Richard Madden is one gorgeous human being.

Chapter 16- Robb Stark

Queen Cersei had Myrcella kept close to her, ever since the first attack outside of Winterfell. He had a feeling that the queen was trying to find a way to break the engagement. When they first arrived, he would've jumped at the chance to break it off, but now he wasn't as certain. The doubts about a new marriage were there but his feelings towards the young princess changed. Myrcella was a woman. Robb didn't see her as a child anymore. She was sweet, kind, and very intelligent. He saw her reading on many occasions and singing. He nearly took a hit to the head in the training yard, the first time he heard her sing.

Robb knocked on the door to her bed chambers. Ser Arys just nodded to him now, when he sought her out. "Enter" Myrcella said from the other side. The white knight stepped in first, so it wouldn't be improper. Robb smiled when he saw Myrcella in the silver grey dress he had made for her.

"Princess Myrcella may I escort you to the dining hall?" He said with his mock courtesies that he and Myrcella used when other people were around.

"Of course my prince." Myrcella smiled and joined him as they walked towards the hall.

They were all eating in a private dining hall today. It was just going to be the royal families dining today. Robb pulled Myrcella's chair out, and his thumb rubbed the back of her hand, as he guided her to her seat. His place was across from Joffrey at the table and next to his mother. The two families didn't speak much to each other, other than Sansa and Myrcella's light banter. "My love" Queen Cersei spoke in a polite voice, bringing everyone out of their own thoughts. "With the threat to Winterfell, it would be safer if we returned to King's Landing."

King Robert glared at his wife. "We've talked about this woman."

"Surely you would want your children safe. Tommen, Myrcella, Joffrey and I would return, with several men, while the rest of the men stay and fight."

"Myrcella is to be married." Robert said flatly.

"We would come back, when the problem is taken care of." Cersei had her hand on Robert's shoulder. Robb stopped eating and looked across the table at Myrcella. She seemed as shocked as he was.

Robert seemed to be thinking it over; Robb looked at his father to see if he was going to say something. "It might be for the best Ned." He had to say something; she couldn't leave him.

"No!" Myrcella spoke loud enough for all to hear. "I am to be Queen in the North one day. I cannot leave when it gets hard."

A broad smile spread across his face. "Myrcella don't be ridiculous. It's not safe for us here." All the kindness was gone from Cersei's voice.

"It is safer than the open road. With a threat to Winterfell, it is even more important for us to wed." He simply stared in awe at his wife to be; he was truly proud that she would be his.

"She is right. The wedding needs to be moved up." Robb returned Myrcella's smile. What was left of Cersei's pleasantries faded away as she glared at him, but Myrcella's smile was giving him strength. "King Robert, I have been meaning to speak with you about Tommen."

"Absolutely not!" Cersei interrupted. His father nodded at him to continue, and Tommen and Myrcella watched him intently.

"Hush woman, let him speak." Robert silenced his wife.

"I know this is not the best time, but I would like to ask your permission for Tommen to stay in the north with Myrcella."

"NO!"

"Hold your tongue woman." Robert looked ready to strike his wife. "Why would you have him stay?"

Robb looked back at Myrcella before speaking. He saw hope in her eyes. "He is old enough to be a ward. We do not have many knights in the North, but he could squire if he likes. Mostly, I think Myrcella would like to have her brother close." His mother gave him a small smile and patted on the knee under the table.

Robert thought for a few moments. "It might do him good to get way from his mother's skirts before she turns him soft like his brother. I will think on it and the wedding will be moved up, right Ned?" Robert turned to Ned, who was watching his son.

"That should not be too much trouble." Ned gave him an approving look, before he and Robert started discussing some of their many plans.

Queen Cersei dismissed herself and her children followed shortly after she left; his father dismissed him and his brothers and sisters to go their separate ways. He already put together the scouting party that was set to leave later in the day. He was exhausted and it was barely midday. Robb sat in his study; it was smaller than his father's but big enough for him. The supply list had grown since the attack on them. His father had him preparing for extra supplies, in case they ended up in a full on battle. There were also men on the way to Winterfell, so they had to plan for extra mouths as well. There was a soft tapping on his door that drew his attention away from his work. "Come in" Myrcella stepped in and quickly closed the door. She had never come to him like this before today. Robb watched her as she listened at the door. A small smile spread on his face. "What do I owe the pleasure princess?"

"Shh..." Myrcella put her finger to her lips, which made him chuckle. After a few more moments of her listening at the door, she finally turned around and walked further into the room. "I had to sneak away from Ser Arys."

Robb couldn't stop laughing when she told him that. Myrcella glared at him with her hands on her hips, which made him laugh harder. The knock on his door finally managed to calm him down. Myrcella stayed behind the door. He cracked it open to peer outside. "Prince Stark, have you seen Princess Myrcella?"

He had to fight hard to keep his face calm and not break out in another fit of laughter. "Not since we broke our fast." He lied. "Should I be concerned?"

"No your grace, she has snuck away from me before. If you see her, please send her to me."

"Of course Ser Arys." He shut the door, after the white knight turned around. Myrcella was pressing her hand firmly to her mouth, trying not to giggle. Robb held out his hand, which she gladly took and led her to the seating area.

"Thank you for not telling on me Robb."

"It will always be my pleasure to hide you, princess. Can I ask why you were hiding from poor Ser Arys?"

Myrcella smiled shyly. "I just needed to get away." That made sense to him, he would likely run someone through with a sword if they followed him like they did her. "Thank you for trying keep Tommen here."

"He is a good kid; he deserves a chance to grow up." He hoped she didn't take that as a slight on her mother, as soon as it left his mouth. "And of course so you would have family close." He added quickly. "I hope your father listens."

Myrcella was looking at her hands when she started to speak. "Mother says that you chivalry is an act because you have to, and as soon as I am bedded you will go back to your whores. I told her she was wrong." Myrcella had tears in her eyes that were threatening to fall. "Is she wrong Robb?"

Robb fell to his knees in front of her and took her hands in his. Myrcella and her mother had fought over him, and he couldn't believe what her mother had said to her. "She is wrong. You will be my only love Myrcella."

She looked at him shyly, wiping the tears from her eyes. "You must think me so silly."

"I think you are beautiful." Green eyes watched his lips as he spoke. He licked his bottom lip; she did the same. Her being so close to him, alone, was dangerous. He wanted her, to run his hands trough her golden hair, to touch her porcelain skin, and to taste her soft pink lips. His mind was going to a place it shouldn't go; he had to control himself. When he looked back up at Myrcella, she was leaning towards him. He cursed himself, her, and his damn honor before he reluctantly backed away from her.

Myrcella's eyes flashed with anger. "She was right." Myrcella whispered, before pushing him back and standing, and wiping her eyes furiously. "You could care less about me. I am just some cow to carry your heir." Her voice was strong and angry, and for the first time, he saw the Lannister in Myrcella.

"Myrcella wait."

"No Robb. You can stop pretending to care. Once I am with child you can…" Myrcella's voice cracked with emotion. "You can bed whatever you want."

Myrcella ran to the door and tried to open it, but he managed to push the door closed before she could leave. "Myrcella please, I wouldn't…"

"I know you visited the tents."

"Myrcella please listen, I never… I have been with a woman, but not since you have been in my life. Robb cupped her face and wiped away her angry tears. "I want you to be my queen, Myrcella. I want to love you and only you." She let out a small gasp. "Myrcella." He didn't get to finish whatever he was going to say. Myrcella kissed him! It was a quick chaste kiss, but she was bold enough to make the first move. Her lovely face turned a light shade of pink, as she looked at his chest. "My queen." His voice was rough and lower than usual. Robb pressed his lips to hers and was rewarded by a silent gasp. When she relaxed into the kiss, he pressed her further by tracing her lovely lips lightly with the tip of his tongue. Her breath hitched, Robb forced himself to slow down. He rested his forehead against hers and let his heart settle. Myrcella smiled and softly and kissed him again. He let her explore his mouth; a groan escaped his throat when Myrcella gently traced his lips like he had done earlier. Myrcella stopped and looked at him. "Mella" He butchered her name, making her giggle. "Are you laughing at me?" He teased not letting any space between them.

"Never my lord." Myrcella teased him back. "I like it."

"Mella" He mumbled into her ear and kissed her neck. She whimpered quietly, making him moan. "Mella we should stop." They were in dangerous territory.

"I don't want to." He kissed her one more time.

"Mella a man can only take so much. Women are much stronger when it comes to this."

"When are we to be married?"

"I will speak to my father."

Myrcella smiled and kissed him quickly again. "I better get back before Ser Arys worries himself to death, be safe my prince." Myrcella slipped out the door and glanced back at him before she disappeared down the hall.

"You finally fuck the princess." Theon was leaning against the wall, opposite from the way Myrcella went down, and grinning cockily.

"Careful Theon, she will be my wife." He knew how Theon was but wouldn't allow him to speak of Myrcella like that.

"I don't know who is worse you or Snow, at least Snow is getting his cock wet."

His anger sparked. "Enough Theon."

Theon eyed him trying to decide how much more he could push. "Easy Stark it was just a jest. Maybe if you were dippin your prick, you wouldn't be so damn pissy." He was about to completely lose his temper. "The men are waiting for you when you are ready to leave." Theon walked out of the hall and away from him. Robb closed his door and walked towards his room to collect his things.

A few women, that looked like hand maidens, passed him in the hall near his room. The last in the line was Mollen. "Mollen" He spoke her name without thinking. She stopped and turned as the other women kept walking.

"My lord" Mollen executed a messy curtsy.

"How is Jon?"

Mollen tilted her head to the side and looked at him. "He is your brother." Her tone was clipped.

"He has not spoken with me." The only time Jon and he talked, since he asked about Mollen in the Godswood, was when Jon asked about the safety of their family. Any time he tried to speak with his brother, Jon would find a way to avoid him.

"You do not trust me." Mollen went straight to the point. "That is what Jon says."

Jon spoke to her about him. He wasn't sure how he felt about that. "I do not want Jon to be hurt and you are…"

"I am what?" Mollen snapped and the metal decorative plate rattled on the wall.

He had to check his temper. Mollen was an unknown; he had to be careful how he approached her, but he still had to get his point across. "Mollen I am sure you are a lovely girl, but a whore is not what Jon needs. He needs to fall in love with an appropriate girl."

Her eyes flashed silver and Mollen took a few deep breaths. The room was growing hotter. "I am no whore my lord." Mollen said through clenched teeth.

"My apologies Mollen." The feeling of being in a burning cage with a shadowcat came to mind. Robb didn't care to stay near her any longer.

"Jon is my friend. I will not hurt him." Mollen relaxed, after a few more breaths.

"Of course" He said and dismissed her. Robb continued outside to his men, thinking over what had actually happened moments before. None of his encounters made him feel any better about Mollen. His gear was already packed and waiting for him, when met the men that would be joining him on the scouting trip. The plan was to ride out of the South gate to the crest of the hill that overlooked Winterfell. Then, they would circle west around Winterfell. Greywind was pacing near his horse ready to run. "Let's ride" He yelled to the waiting men. The men, he selected, were riding out of the gates side by side.

His father met him before he could leave the walls of Winterfell. "See what you can, get a count if you can, and get back."

Robb nodded and hurried to the front of his men. It was strange to think of them as his men, but they were. He was in charge; they had to do what he said. It was a great responsibility. The men rode at a steady pace, taking in their surroundings. When they reached the base of the hill, they slowed their pace. The scouts went in several different directions. One of the groups had already returned. They had found a small camp of twenty men. Many of the men wanted to take them out, but he wouldn't allow it; this was simply a scouting detail. Another group came back reporting the same as the first. The group slowly worked their way around Winterfell. Robb sent out different scouting parties in different directions and waited until all returned before they moved again. It was the same story all around the castle; several smaller camps were set up surrounding Winterfell. They seemed to be waiting on something or someone.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so the ladies will be in this chapter and Mollen is in the next. It originally was one chapter but i split it up. Let me know what you think I'm not sure how i feel about this one. (roughly edited please forgive me)

Chapter 17

Arya Stark

Gendry was the biggest idiot in all of Westeros. She was certain of that. Arya sat in the sitting room, trying to run a needle in and out of the fabric and thinking about the big blacksmith. Princess Myrcella sat and talked with Sansa, Jayne, and all the other ladies, that loved to sow, gossip and talk about Robb's upcoming wedding. Arya cursed silently as she jabbed the needle into her thumb. "Tsk…tsk... tsk…" Septa Mordane clucked from behind her. "After all these years, you still have the hands of a blacksmith." She didn't like being compared to a blacksmith, it only made her think of him. Septa Mordane turned her back to fawn over Sansa's stitches and Arya made a face, that was entirely unladylike.

The young ladies continued gossiping about men. Arya rolled her eyes; it got old listening to them everyday. They were all so stupid and predictable. "Gendry is taking me this afternoon." One of the ladies said in a sing song voice.

"Taking you where?" Arya butted into the conversation.

The woman looked at her for a few moments. "Gendry is taking me for a walk in the Godswood." The girls across from her giggled; it occurred to her that she should probably know their names, but she didn't remember them.

Gendry had no right to take women into the Godswood. That was a sacred place, not somewhere he could rut with some lady. Not that she cared who he was rutting with. Gendry could fuck whoever he wanted, just not in her Godswood. Arya sat her needlework down and stood to leave. "Where do you think you are going young lady?" Septa Mordane stopped her.

"To work in the smithy, apparently I have the hands for it." Arya said as the door shut loudly behind her. She ran down the hallways until she reached Mollen's bedchamber in the servant's quarters. Shespent a lot of time in the that part of the castle and even more when Mollen was given a place inside.

"Arya?" Mollen opened the door and let her inside.

"You said we could spar." There was a plan starting to form in her mind.

"Yes, but I have work to do." Mollen watched her pace.

"That can wait." She needed Mollen to come with her.

"Are you going to spar in that dress?" Mollen asked ,not wanting to argue with a princess. Sometimes it wasn't so bad being a princess. Arya looked down at her dress

"Seven hells" She cursed making Mollen smile. She didn't want to risk going to her room. "I cannot go to my room." Mollen opened a trunk and pulled out leather trousers and a leather top for both of them. Arya eyed the clothes, that would show a lot of her skin and started to change. Mollen was ready by the time she was trying to tie the strings on the top behind her back. Mollen stepped behind her and pulled them tight. The clothes were like nothing she had ever worn before. The leather was thick enough to deflect a blow but soft enough to move anyway she needed to. The top was sleeveless and partly open in the back. Arya searched for a cloak to throw over the leathers. If her mother saw her, she would be murdered. Mollen disappeared into another trunk and pulled out two small blunted practice swords. "Follow me" Arya led her out to the Godswood, only taking the time to get Nymeria. When they reached the clearing, she shed her cloak feeling a chill tug at her exposed skin.

Mollen followed her lead. "I do not know the water dance." Mollen crossed the clearing and stood across from her.

"Let us just fight." Arya attacked quickly, but Mollen sidestepped her easily. She had never fought someone as quick as she was. She reset her stance and started over. Mollen seemed to know what she was going to do before she did it. "How do you do that?" Arya demanded after a blade tapped her side once again.

"I have been training since I was a babe. My people have to learn to fight young." Mollen said easily as they attacked each other. They were circling each other all day. Sparring with Mollen was different than fighting with Jon, or Robb, or even Gendry. Mollen didn't hold back. Arya was put on her back several times, but Mollen gave advice, when Arya started to get frustrated, or showed her some of the fighting techniques from Valaria. Nymeria growled from near the entrance to the clearing. She knew who it was but didn't look. Arya pressed another attack on Mollen. Mollen didn't pay any attention to the two people watching them, but Mollen was used to being stared at. Arya could feel their eyes on her. She heard a gasp from behind her, which distracted her long enough for Mollen to disarm her and put the blade to her throat.

"Bloody hell" She mumbled. Nymeria was circling Gendry and whatever her name was.

"Arya!" Gendry yelled. She ignored Gendry and set up in her stance again. Mollen glanced over her shoulder and stepped into her relaxed fighting stance. Nymeria was still circling the two intruders, while she fought with Mollen once again. She managed to get a few hits in on Mollen. "Damnit Arya!" Gendry yelled, after Nymeria lunged at the couple. She turned her head for a fraction of a moment and Mollen had her on the ground.

Arya mumbled several curses as Mollen helped her up again and whispered in her ear. "Calm yourself Arya. Your wolf feels your rage." Nymeria was snarling at Gendry, the brave idiot, who had placed himself between the wolf and the lady with him.

Arya finally turned and glared at Gendry. "Nymeria to me." Arya finally called her wolf off. There was a tense silence that filled the woods.

"Gendry," Mollen dipped her head. "Who is your friend?" She was happy Mollen asked; because, she couldn't remember her name.

"This is Lady Lanna Crakehall." Gendry said as Mollen did a clumsy curtsy.

"That is a lovely dress my lady." Mollen continued to speak to the little group, which was fine by her. The last thing she wanted to do was talk to Gendry and Lady Lanna Crakehall.

"Thank you…" Lady Lanna trailed off.

"Her name is Mollen." Arya rolled her eyes; she could taste the superiority coming off of Lady Lanna.

"Mollen, that is an interesting choice of attire." Lanna's voice was filled with a false sweetness, that Arya knew all to well.

Gendry cleared his throat. "My apologies ladies, but Lady Lanna wished to see the Godswood."

"She's seen it." Arya said as she wiped the sweat off of her brow with her cloak. Mollen smiled briefly but covered it by pulling her cloak over her face to hide her smile and remove the sweat. Gendry stood awkwardly between Lady Lanna and her, unable to look at Arya. No doubt he was embarrassed by what she was wearing. It made her even angrier. She didn't look like a boy anymore, but she wasn't a Crakehall woman, who were know for their curves.

"Lady Crakehall have you seen the glass garden? It is beautiful." Mollen asked to break the tension once again.

"I have heard that it is stunning from Princess Myrcella."

"I have some work I must do; perhaps I can show you. I am on my way there now." Arya glanced at the Lady. She could see her thinking over her options, either stay with Gendry or have something to speak of with the Princess.

"I would like that very much." Naturally Lanna would want a reason to suck up to the Princess.

Mollen gathered her things. "Thank you for the honor Lady Arya." Mollen bowed mockingly, before winking at Arya and leading Lady Lanna Crakehall away.

Gendry was still dumbfounded, as she put her cloak around her shoulders. "What are you wearing?"

"Fighting leathers. What were you doing here?" Arya couldn't keep the malice out of her voice.

"She just wanted..."

"This is the place for our Gods Gendry; not where you can take your Lady to rut around with." Arya turned and walked towards the pathway.

Gendry caught up and spun her around. "She's not my lady and I wasn't rutting with her." Gendry was angry and was trying to keep it in check.

She jerked her arm away from him. "I don't care who you're fucking, just not here." Arya turned and ran; she did care and she hated it, hated that he made her feel like she did, hated that he wouldn't like someone like her. She heard Gendry trying to follow her, but Nymeria blocked his path with a low growl.

Myrcella Baratheon

Robb still hadn't returned from scouting. Every moment was torture; it left her with nothing but her thoughts. Marrying a man she didn't know was terrifying, but marrying Robb wasn't as scary. Robb was very handsome, but she thought that from the first time she saw him, when she was a young girl. He was also charming, sweet, and everything a husband was supposed to be. Her mother didn't think so. To her Robb was just playing a role. According to her, as soon as he was between her legs it would all change. That was terrifying. It wasn't hard to believe her mother, when all she had to do was look to her parents. Her father was with every woman in sight, and her mother hated everyone that wasn't a Lannister. Cersei was her mother and she loved her, but she often wondered where she came from; she was like neither of her parents.

King and Queen Stark were different, and it gave her hope. The way Robb's father would look at his wife was everything in the songs she loved so much. She hoped she and Robb could be that too, and when he kissed her she believed they could.

The ladies around her were gossiping again. They were on a covered crossing, that over looked the training yard, sewing and chatting. She was doing neither successfully. "Do you not think so Princess?" Lanna Crakehall asked her.

"I must beg pardon Lanna; I was lost in my work."

"Understandable, you do such excellent stitching." Lady Lanna replied sweetly. It was a lie; she was better but was far from excellent. They always lied to her. "The Valyrian Queen, she is quite savage."

For whatever reason she glanced at Arya. "She is from a different world than ours." In honesty she hadn't thought about the woman much. Of course, her magic was intriguing but, she was never allowed to ask about it. Arya was trying to sew and getting thoroughly upset.

"Yes of course Princess, but surely she would learn to dress for our world. She may as well go around undressed." Myrcella watched Lanna glare at Arya. Queen Stark scolded Arya loudly for sparring in the Godswood, dressed like a heathen. There was no doubt in her mind that Lanna told Lady Stark about Arya.

"I quite admire her strength." Arya gave her a quick smile. "She has been forced into our world, I assume, and she still holds onto who she is. As far as her dress, well I believe she looks like a beautiful warrior." Arya was trying no to laugh and failing, only to cover it with an unladylike cough. Sansa did not approve of her sister's behavior. Those two were so different; she supposed it was like Tommen and Joffrey. Just because they were blood, didn't mean they were the same. In her youth, Myrcella would never have spoken so boldly, but the way Lady Lanna was speaking was truly bothering her. Lady Lanna went silent. The sound of clicking swords filled the air. Myrcella put down her needle work, making up her mind. "Arya, would you care to join me for a walk?" Arya's look was skeptical, as if she didn't trust her. Sansa gave her sister another look.

"Aye, Princess I would like that." Arya glared openly at Sansa, before putting her work way. She excused herself from the ladies and walked, side by side a quiet Arya, aimlessly through Winterfell. She and Arya spoke very little since her arrival, but the other ladies were cruel; nothing outright since Arya was a princess, but the veiled words were unmistakable. In truth she did not understand Arya. If she were in her place, she would not have the courage to do half the things Arya did, for the simple fear of a scolding. "Where are we going?" Arya questioned after several moments of silence.

"I am not sure. I was just tired of listening to them talk."

"That's all they do is talk. This lord is so dreamy; Ser blah is so handsome. It is all so boring."

"If I have to hear that Gendry is so handsome, and that it is too bad he is a bastard one more time I might scream." Myrcella confided and Arya looked down.

"They talk about him a lot." Arya offered still looking at the ground.

"They speak about Jon and Robb too."

"I hate when they talk about Jon." Arya kicked a rock.

"He is nice but seems shy." Arya bit her lip. She didn't' have any room to talk; she could be shy herself. Jon was one topic that Arya spoke freely on. "They do not understand. Gendry is an older brother; I can truly be proud of. He is sweet and kind and funny, but all everybody sees is that he is a bastard, as if it matters to me." She found herself spilling her feelings to Robb's younger sister. Myrcella leaned over the edge of a small walking bridge and looked into the dark water below.

"He seems nice, when he's not being stupid." Arya threw a rock, making the dark water ripple. Myrcella smiled slightly. Gendry had accidentally mentioned Arya's nickname for him.

"Stubborn more often than not." She said, making Arya snort. "Have you heard anything on the scouting party?" She was desperate for news on Robb, and Arya was always talking with the soldiers around Winterfell.

"No, but father said they should be back soon." Arya followed as Myrcella started walking towards the south gate. The forge's familiar scent filled the air. Since Gendry was claimed, she found herself drawn to him in his work place. It wasn't the smell or the sound but Gendry himself. She recognized he was handsome,, and it was easy to believe that long ago her father looked like her bastard brother. Gendry was quiet most of the time, but far from slow as Joffrey suggested. When he was learning to read and write, she would sneak away and help him if he needed it. Arya jumped up on a table, as Gendry tinkered with some strange looking wheel. Myrcella stood near the door next to Arya and waited for Gendry to notice the world around him. Arya threw something at Gendry, after they went for a long time unnoticed.

"Seven Hells" Gendry cursed and turned around. "My apologies ladies." Gendry said with a bow, but he glared at Arya.

"Hi Gendry"

"Princess" Myrcella frowned quickly but remembered Arya was there, so Gendry would use proper courtesies; however, she was with Arya, so she doubted that mattered to her.

"Gendry please, we are all friends."

Gendry looked between the two girls. "If you are certain Princess."

"She said it you idiot." Arya rolled her eyes, and Myrcella laughed lightly. Gendry mentioned how she was but seeing her talk to him was truly entertaining. Part of her feared that her half brother was enamored with the fearless young girl. To her Gendry was a good man, but even a lesser houses were to low for a princess.

"Pardon me milady, but us small folk don't get to say whatever pops into our pretty little heads, if we like to keep them." Gendry countered as his anger flared.

"It's amazing you still have yours." Arya tossed something else at Gendry. In all her time at Winterfell,, she hadn't heard Arya speak freely until now. She envied her and wished she was more like Arya.

"Would you two just kiss already and be done with it." She teased trying to end the arguing before it got too intense. There was no way Gendry would ever rasie a hand to Arya, but Arya would attack Gendry.

"Kiss him!" Arya shouted. "Why would anyone want to kiss a bull headed boy?"

Gendry smiled sweetly. "That's not what you were saying the other night." The forge when quiet as Arya balled her hands into fists. She had no idea what Gendry was talking about, but whatever it was, it hurt Arya. She started to intervene again but it was too late.

Arya whispered. "Bastard" Before shoving out the door and running away.

Gendry shouted after Arya, but she was too quick. Gendry hit the frame of the door with his fist. "Gendry please tell me you didn't kiss her."

Gendry slowly turned around. "No, I didn't kiss her."

"Why is she angry?"

Gendry hesitated. "She might have wanted me to kiss her."

Arya liked him. She hadn't thought Arya would like anyone like that; she was always so bored when the girls spoke about men. "You shouldn't have said that." He had embarrassed her. Arya was constantly called names and talked about, but she was always so tough; Myrcella didn't think it was possible to hurt her the way Gendry did.

"Did you hear what she said to me?"

"You said you liked arguing with her."

"I do and I was. I don't know what I did to make her so mad."

Men were so clueless. "You embarrassed her."

"How?"

"You rejected her kiss and threw it in her face."

Gendry sat down hard in a chair next to the wall and leaned his head against the stones. "I didn't want to." Gendry said quietly, at first she thought he was talking about embarrassing her, but the way he acted was telling her he didn't want to reject her.

Myrcella wrapped her arm around his broad shoulders. "I'm sorry Gendry." She hated that her brother was hurting and she couldn't fix it.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the other half of the the women's POV's; then it is back to the guys and the main plot. For all of those that wanted to know more about Mollen this chapter will answer a lot. I'm sorry if there are those that don't like seeing certain POV's but i feel it's necessary to move the story forward or give insight into another character. The other characters will be back please be patient with me I don't have the talent that GRRM has. I'm just playing here. Lot's of love to those that are still reading and to the people who continue to review good bad or otherwise; I love hearing your thoughts.

Chapter 18- Mollen

It was peaceful at the top of the tower. People didn't stare or whisper at her; mothers didn't pull their children away from her in fear. There were no sideways glances at the top of the tower, only silence and the world below her. If only she still had her book. The attack left everything scattered. People she knew for years lay dead on the ground. Some of them she mourned; some she didn't.

Ser Geoff's bastard son was no longer in the world. Sylys was a true bastard in every sense of the Westerosi word, but his father was a good man, an honorable man, so she mourned for his son in some small way. When she returned to pick up those pieces, her book was gone. It was only a matter of time before those memories of the past disappeared from her mind, the same way the book had. Her people, her grand mother, the ever fading memories of her brother, Ser Geoff, everywhere she traveled, since she gave herself to ensure that her people survived, would all be gone. One day, she would forget Winterfell too. That was the way with magic; it gave power beyond belief, but it took until there was nothing left but madness. Sometimes it felt like she was so close to that edge of the dark unknowing void; that threatened to take everything she was.

Mollen sat on the edge of the window, looking out over Winterfell. The North was different from anywhere she went, and yet the most like what she remembered of home, the people at least. They stuck together and worked as one, when times were hard. Westeros was a strange land. that she still wasn't used to, with their Kings and their rules. One had to bow and kneel, even if you were from another place. Here Kings were born not made. That was a foolish notion to her. A queen was made by blood, sacrifice, work, and leadership, not by joining some man. She trained hard to fight for her people, and harder yet to control the fire within her.

Her mother's mother, Niya, was queen and raised her, after her mother bonded with a man and left their people. That still hurt her. That memory would not fade. When her brother, only a names day older was set to leave; her mother broke her bonds with her sisters to live with a man and her son; she chose to leave her daughter alone in the world. For so many years, she was angry at her mother. It wasn't until she let go of that anger, that her power became controllable.

The flames came easily. The wind did as well, but water required calm, and earth took patience. Those were her natural gifts; at least that was what her Niya told her. Niya also told her the spells of ancient Valaria would come to here, when they were needed. They did, but not all spells were good. Those spells were what took the most form her. Those she rarely used. Her natural gifts only took details from her, so it was preferable.

Mollen sat motionless, as the men below her prepared for battle. A battle was coming; she could feel it. Something was calling her, but she had yet to figure out what that was yet. Hours of staring into the flames would not give her any insight like it did for some, but she always found herself looking for answers in them. Jon was with his wolf in the yard below. She wished she could have finished the drawing of him. When she put something to paper with lines, the memory stuck with her for longer. She did not want to forget Jon or his family. Arya ran from the forge, and it brought a smile to her face. Arya the she-wolf, that made her want to laugh. If only the men knew how close the Stark children were to their wolves. Arya was the closest she found to a true sister, amongst the women and ladies of Westeros. Women here were often foolish and soft. They expected someone to protect and save them.

Her people broke away from the men who doomed Valaria; the men who got greedy and took too much from the melted mountains, deep under the ground. The mountain finally had enough and bled fire and rock on its people and the dragons. At least that was how she was told of the Doom. Neither Valaria nor the dragons were completely destroyed though. She had never seen a dragon, but she knew in her heart that they weren't gone; they couldn't be, she still had magic.

The sound of leather on stone alerted her. Jon was the only one that followed her up the tower anymore. She didn't turn around; she didn't need to. Jon sat down next to her, but farther away from the open space in front of her. "Are you hiding?" Jon teased with a smile. They grew, comfortable with each other in a short amount of time. That was no small feat most would rather jump out a window than be around her and her demonic magic.

"No, my work is done my lord." Since King Stark allowed them a room at Winterfell, she had spent her time in the glass garden, harvesting food for Winterfell. The work was hard to get used to again, but it was enjoyable. The humid heat inside the glass reminded her of home.

"Why aren't you drawing?" Jon asked; she hadn't told him about her missing book. He had enough on his mind and been through so much; it didn't seem necessary to burden him with unimportant things.

However, she would not lie to him. "I lost my book the day of the attack." Jon's face shifted, and she immediately regretted telling him.

"I am sorry Mollen. I will see if it can be found or get…" She pressed her finger to his lips to stop him from speaking. The soft dryness of his lips made something shift inside of her. His lips touched hers once and could have again many times since then. The momentary hurt from when he paid for the kiss, her gift to him, stopped her from allowing it again. Jon explained why he did it, and she understood his motives. That small hurt was something she couldn't risk. If she lost control of herself people, or worse; Jon could get hurt.

"It is fine Jon." She removed her and Jon sighed.

"Robb is back." She could hear the relief in his voice. Jon loved his brother, and that made her care for his safety as well, even if Robb did not care fore her. "King Robert and King Stark want to have a small family meal." She remained quiet and waited for Jon to finish talking. "They want me and Gendry to be there. They want you there as well."

"Why do they want me there? I am not family." King Robert did not like her and she knew that. She refused to bow to a king that did not deserve it. King Robert showed none of the attributes a king should have. King Stark had her respect. He cared about his people and led them well. Perhaps, they decided what they wanted to do with her, but there was no place for her at a King's table.

"I do not know, but I was asked to bring you. Queen Stark had a dress made for you. I believe Sansa worked on it herself." Jon must have noticed her hesitation. "I will be there too."

She stood and smiled. "I am sure the dress is beautiful." It was all she could say. The queen was making sure she didn't make a scene by dressing like a savage. Of course, she would dress for the queen. It was no secret they spoke about her attire. It was just one of many things she chose to ignore. They were not her people; they didn't need to understand her. "I should go get ready." Jon stood close to her now and acted as if he wanted to say more, but he just gently squeezed her hand.

Mollen parted ways with Jon, with a promise to meet him at the private dinning hall in the Great Keep. The girls were not in their room when she arrived. A dress was folded over the small table in the room with a piece of paper marked with delicate scribbles. A tub stood in the corner of the room already filled with water. Mollen stepped out of her heavy wool dress, another gift that was given to her to work in. The water was cool as she dipped her hand into the tub. The liquid heat began to pool in her center, before she pushed it through her body with her mind, to her hand, and into the water. Mollen stepped into the now hot water. It would have been too easy to relax into the tub and lose herself in her thoughts, as she so often did, so she quickly scrubbed herself clean and stepped out. The dress was a light grey, almost silver color. The cut was simple and, plain but elegant. Mollen was dressed and brushing her hair when Isa walked into the room. "You look beautiful."

"Thank you" Isa and her were never close before the attack on the tents, but now there were so few of them left. "Could you?" She held out the brush. Isa took the brush and worked her hair into a simple style. Isa eyed the tub in the corner after she finished with Mollen's hair. Mollen warmed the water once again, before waking to the dining hall.

Jon was leaning against the wall waiting on her. Jon straightened up and stared. "Gods you're beautiful." Jon whispered but she heard him. His words excited her for some reason.

"Is that such a surprise?" She teased, letting him know she heard him.

"No… I…" Jon stammered, making her smile. He glared at her, when he realized she was teasing him. "Shall we"

"Do we have a choice?" She hooked her arm in his like she had seen the ladies do so often. The guards opened the doors for them. Most of the Starks were seated at the table. The men stood as Jon seated her next to him before sitting. Their customs were so strange. She wasn't sure what she was supposed to do, so she waited for Jon to do something before she would.

The room was silent except for the sound of plates being set down. Mollen moved the soup to her mouth to take a bite. "So you are the Valyrian Queen." She stopped mid bite and looked up at Queen Cersei.

"I was your grace." The room went quiet, so she thought it would be safe to try to eat again.

When the spoon was almost to her lips, the queen spoke again. "How are you not a queen now?"

Mollen took a breath and set the spoon back in the bowl. "I gave up my crown to save my people."

"You gave up your crown?" The queen smiled mockingly. "Not much of a queen then."

"What good is a crown with her people all dead?" She was not trying to be rude, but Cersei's green eyes narrowed on her wanting to say something else most likely. Once again she tried to take a bite of soup.

"Tell me how you lost your crown." Queen Cersei demanded.

She had not told anyone that story, not even Jon, though she knew he wanted to know. You were supposed to obey the queen's demands. "I was a young Queen, younger than any before me." She used to be proud of that, but now she often wondered if any other queen would have done what she did. "Men landed on our shores, men in armor, men from here. They started taking my people ,taking the young ones that were not trained to fight." She still remembered those days. If only she could choose which memories she lost. "I had enough. My people are not many; we could not lose so many young ones. I agreed to speak with our enemy and tried to reach some sort of peace. Ser Geoff of Driftmark was in command. He was there to seek a bride for his Lord of house Velaryon among the women of Valaria, to make the blood lines stronger. Our people fought several times and many had died. Ser Geoff agreed to let his captives go, if I agreed to go in their place. I agreed if his men would leave and never return to my home."

"Why would a man take one when he could have them all?" King Robert questioned.

"Ser Geoff was a man of his word. Men and women were dying in his pointless pursuit. He agreed that his lord would be happy with one girl that could do magic, rather than many young girls." She hated speaking about Ser Geoff. His loss still hurt.

"He could have taken all of you." The queen smiled briefly.

"He could have tried and most would have died. We did not have your armor, but we knew the land and were far quicker than any iron suit. Ser Geoff was a good man, who chose to save the lives of many by making that deal." The glasses on the table rattled as she said it, and she had to take several breaths to calm down. They had no right to speak of a good man that way.

"Where is Ser Geoff now?" Jon asked quietly.

"The sea took him." It was true for the most part. The men grew tired of their adventure after they found out that their Lord, who had sent them on the quest, was dead making it all pointless. Ser Geoff wanted to take her back to her people, which angered his men that were left. They attacked him in the night wounding him badly. She killed the men who had tried to kill her friend, but his wounds made him grow weak. They sailed to Bravos together, after she convinced him that she was dead to her people when she chose to leave them. He had taught her his language and some of their customs. He also taught her that men could be honorable and kind. When they met up with his bastard son, who was a slave trader, Ser Geoff was barely able to walk. The trip to Westeros was too much for him, and she had to say goodbye to the first man she ever trusted. Jon's hand gently touched hers, after she stayed silent for too long.

"How do you like your dress?" Queen Stark asked to break the tension.

The soup on her spoon was getting cold. "It is lovely your grace but…" She stopped speaking remembering the world she was in now.

"But what?" Mollen looked at Jon unsure of what to do. Jon touched her hand and gave a slight nod, urging her to answer.

"It is just…. Where do you keep your blades?" She could not figure one place she could conceal them and still be able to get to them easily. Jon coughed on his soup and King Stark gave a brief smile. King Robert laughed outright along with Robb. It took her several moments to understand what was so funny.

Queen Stark watched Mollen for a few moments. "I have never had to address that problem." The queen said with an arched brow. There were several laughs at the table before she was finally able to take a bite of her soup. King Stark started speaking with Robert and the people at the table slowly started talking with each other, while she was able to eat in silence. Their dessert was being served after way too much left over food was taken away.

"You can do magic?" The youngest Stark asked her, making everyone stop. She looked at King Stark, unsure if she was supposed to tell the truth.

"Yes" She answered after Eddard nodded.

"Show me" Rickon demanded, the way a child does.

Mollen looked around the table as the plates were being removed. Jon shook his head, but she just smiled. "Do you like stories Rickon?"

"Yes" Rickon said firmly like a little lord would.

"Long, long ago there was a princess." Rickon groaned, but she continued anyway. "She was beautiful and wild. Her father let her run around the kingdom, and she took what she wanted from whoever she wanted. The Gods didn't like this and decided to punish her. They sent Death to her family, while she was out taking food and trinkets from her people. Death killed her father, mother, brothers, and sisters before burning her home." Mollen built a castle of fire on top of the table. "The princess came home to the burning ruins, where death was waiting for her. Death told her what he did, and that he would not take her life but make her live with what she had done. The princess grew angry and tried to kill Death, who only laughed in her face. Saying 'silly girl, you cannot kill Death.' The princess cried and cried until she could cry no more." A small woman made of ice began to appear on the table. "Her heart grew cold and turned to ice. The Gods had meant to punish the princess for her greed, but her grief made her change. Long after her kingdom crumbled and her family dust; the ice princess met a man dressed in black and made him hers. When they joined, she gave him many children. They were strange and beautifully made of ice. Not dead, but a different kind of life, inhuman, elegant and dangerous were her children." The ice figures grew in number on the table and marched in place. "With her army of children, she marched against the world. The Gods took her family, so she would take theirs for her own. Death's words rang in her ears, so she took man and animal alike making them her own dead army. The Gods sent a warrior and there was a great battle. The princess' lover was killed. In her rage, she attacked and was wounded. She retreated to the frozen lands, that was once was her home, angry. To this day she waits, waits for her revenge on all that was taken, her revenge on all that lives." Mollen looked around and every eye was on the ice figures on the table, as they played out a battle against man shaped flames.

"How do they stop her when she comes?" Rickon asked the question.

"That is not known. Some say she died long ago, but some say that when she comes, the Gods will send a warrior born amidst smoke and salt that will drive back the darkness." Mollen finished the magic battle on the table. It had been many years since she heard that story, but for some reason she felt it had to be told. It was a story that her people knew for some time. A story that the adults in the room had to understand. Death was coming; her blood was certain of that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To those reading Different Kind of Knight. I have the next chapter written and am doing some final touches before i post so it should be up soon. (I hope *fingers crossed)


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19- Ned Stark

"Where in the Seven Hells is Robert?" Ned asked the emptiness around him. The rider from a day ago had urgent news. Robert was supposed to come to him early in the morning. Ser Beric Dondarrion rode hard to Winterfell to deliver that news. There was talk of Dragons and Targaryens in the Bay, and not just the normal whispers and stories. The Dragons were coming to Westeros, with an army of eunuchs and a great khalasar. No ravens came to them with the news. Ships were sighted, and it was certain that the army was crossing the Narrow Sea. Ser Baric also delivered a small locked box to him from the Hand of the Kings. He had yet to open it, with all of the pressing matters it would have to wait.

The Kingdoms were likely to be under attack from the south and the north. The only question was when it would all happen. Unlike the last war, they weren't the ones attacking the crown. A war was coming from one side or the other. He hoped that his bones would be dust in the crypts of Winterfell, before war came to his home again. His boys would be in this battle. He could not stop them from fighting in it. They were men now. The thought alone made him feel old.

Robb was soon to be married. Jon was becoming a man, that at times he did not recognize. The marriage proposal to Dorne fell through. Prince Quentyn was killed over the Narrow Sea, so he still had to find a match for Sansa. The more he thought about it, the more he wanted to keep her safe in the North. Then there was Arya. Lord Umber, who had recently arrived, was impressed by Arya's spirit and mentioned he had a son in need of a wife. At least he had his two youngest. He had time with them, unless he sent Bran to King's Landing to squire. "My love" His wife entered his solar. "You are troubled." Catelyn walked behind him and started rubbing his shoulders.

"War is coming." Catelyn stopped her movements at his words, before continuing her massage.

"Winter is coming." The words sounded colder from his wife's lips.

"Aye my love."

"The people are speaking of strange things."

"We have survived many winters. We will survive this one." The words were meant as comfort for his wife, as well as silent prayer of hope. "How goes the wedding plans?" Ned always managed to shift his wife's attention to more joyful topics.

"I'm afraid Queen Cersei is not happy about anything we have to offer in Winterfell."

That didn't really surprise him. The Lannister woman was colder than the North. "And the Princess?"

"She is a sweet girl, who only wishes to be wed to Robb."

"She cares for him?" He asked a little surprised. Not many marriages started with affection.

"More so each day."

"That is all that matters then." Catelyn finished rubbing his shoulders, just before Robb entered.

"Father, there has been a rider with a message from Mance Rayder. He wishes to speak with you."

"Get Jon and fifty men rounded up. Have the rest of the men ready as well." Parlays were dangerous no matter who was involved. Robb left to carry out his orders immediately. Ned started to put on his armor. It had been years since he wore full armor. The north didn't normally wear full metal suits like the knights of the south did. Men would freeze to death in the cumbersome metal suits. Catelyn helped him buckle in the metal pieces to the leather.

The worry on her face was apparent, but Catelyn never voiced her concern. "Come back to me Ned." Catelyn said when he was ready to go. Ned kissed his wife without making any promises to her. He couldn't hurt her anymore than his lies already had.

The men were waiting at the gate for him along with his boys. The day was gloomy. Grey clouds threatened to spit snow and blocked out any warmth the sun could give. They all set out of the gates and towards the enemy. Robb and Jon rode in silence directly behind him. It could be taken as nerves, but their disagreements had Jon and Robb barely speaking. Everything was a mess. His boys were at odds over something, Robert was furious at him over his kept secret, the Wall fell, and there were wildlings at his door. The thoughts that always came to him, when things went wrong, were coiling in the back of his mind. Brandon would have done everything different.

The party topped the hill and saw a few hundred men waiting on the opposite hill. There was a tent set up between the two hills, and no telling how many men were just over the hill opposite them. Ned and his two sons rode down the hill, leaving their party of riders at the crest, and the bigger party on the backside of the hill. The men dismounted and were led to the tent entrance. He wasn't sure what he was expecting, but it wasn't a room with two women, one with a baby, sitting around a man with a harp. Two men stepped in behind them. "King in the North but not South, this is honestly not a surprise. When I left Winterfell, you were no longer speaking." The man with the harp spoke to them. He remembered the man singing during the first feast when Robert arrived. Mance was in his castle and recently.

"I believe you were misinformed." Ned said calmly, giving away none of his feelings.

"Your boys?" Mance asked plucking a string.

"Aye"

"Boys? They're prettier than most girls." The blond woman jested loudly, making the wildlings laugh.

"How rude of me, we don't have court customs north of the wall. This is my wife Dalla and our son, along with her sister Val." Mance motioned to the blond woman that had just spoke. "Behind you is the Lord of Bones and Tormund Giantsbane." Mance made the introductions as he played his harp.

"My sons Robb and Jon." Ned gave his son's names to complete the pleasantries.

"Please sit Your Grace." Mance's tone was mocking. There were several tense moments before he sat across from Mance. Robb and Jon followed, keeping their eyes on the men and the back of the tent. "Thank you for speaking with me. I do not wish for us to be enemies."

"Your people attacked Winterfell."

"Not on my orders and I believe they all died." Mance looked completely at ease.

"Why are we here?" Robb asked. Mance glanced at Robb and plucked another string.

"Your crow brother told you about us?"

"Aye"

"We have no interest in Winterfell, but you have something we want."

Ned assumed he was speaking of food. "And what would that be?"

"Your boy's sorceress." Jon shifted next to him. He was thankful that Jon remained quiet.

"What would you want with her?"

"What could I possibly want with a woman that can control flames?" Mance plucked another string. The man's entire demeanor was infuriating.

"She's not for sale." Jon finally spoke, making Val laugh.

"There a plenty of girls that would claw each other's eyes out to be with you, boy. There would be another to warm your bed." Jon was getting angrier as they spoke.

He had to make sure his son's temper didn't interfere. "She is not mine to give." He answered, before Jon could lose his temper.

"Too bad." Mance plucked another damn string that sent a ripple of rage through Ned. "She might be able to end all of this."

"Why are you here?" He repeated Robb's earlier statement, tired of small talk.

"We're heading south." Val answered for him. Apparently, the women spoke freely north of the Wall.

"Why?" Robb asked; it was good that his heir was seen in a position of authority.

"White Walkers is coming." Val said.

"And you shattered the Wall, so they could get through." White Walkers were still a story to him, but he humored them.

Mance set his harp down. "That was unfortunate. Magic is unpredictable. The giant, that blew the horn, burned from the inside out, and the Wall crumbled before us. If you would ask the woman if she would join us I would be appreciative. I understand she is not one of your people. She could find a home with us. Magic doesn't frighten the free folk."

"And Winterfell?"

"Does not interest me, we go south and won't stop until the sands of Dorne." Mance answered. The wildlings were a rough lot, but not what he was expecting. There was a long low howl in the distance. Mance stood as a man came through the entrance of the tent. "What is it Orell?"

"An attack" Jon answered looking far away. The rest of them stood up.

"He's right. Wights is comin'."

Ned still wasn't sure he believed them. "How many?"

The man Mance called Orell looked at him for a few moments. "I di'n't get a good count."

"Get the torches." Mance ordered, and his men obeyed. "I would go hide in your stone walls your grace. The true enemy comes."

"What now father?" Robb waited until the wildlings left the tent before asking.

"Ride to the hill and get the men. I need to see this for myself." Robb left promptly and Jon went to follow. "How did you know they were coming Jon?"

Jon froze mid step and looked back at him. "Ghost saw them."

Ned took a breath. The words were simple; the meaning was not. There was a word for men that could connect with animals. His son was a warg. Jon stepped outside and he followed. The wildlings were loosely organized and heading in the direction the wights were sighted. Ned led his men alongside the free folk, half expecting a double cross. The short trip, to the clearing through the trees, had him doubting the journey even more. There was nothing around only the cold, and it was very cold.

It had been a long time since the last snow, yet it was colder than if the snow was hip high. The men were all waiting; it was quiet despite the number of men waiting at the end of the trees. Shadows emerged from a grey mist in the distance. The beings slowly walked towards them. The horses danced under the men, making most dismount. The eyes were the first thing he noticed. The unnatural blue shone bright as the sun. Ned looked around him. The wildlings looked ready for the fight; his own men looked uncertain. "Seven hells." Robb whispered at his side.

Free folk ran forward, without a signal for an attack. Ned rushed forward, knowing his men would follow. There were so many of the creatures pressing forward. He fought hard against the dead men. His sword sizzled as it sliced through the moving dead. More came for them. The numbers were overwhelming. Wildling and Northmen alike were falling to the dead. The torches touched what they could, but there were so many.

Robb and Jon were lost somewhere in the battle. His men and others darted about, slashing limbs and heads in hopes of stopping the frozen rotten flesh from pressing forward. The sun must have been setting; because, the dark started to suffocate the clearing. There was in inhuman scream that shattered the noise of battle. A monster, from a child's night terrors, broke from the woods flanked by more of the dead. "Retreat!" He yelled to the men around him. They fought their way back and managed to put some distance between them and their attackers. They reached the clearing where the tent was set up. The woman from earlier stepped out. "Get to the castle!" Ned ordered.

They needed to regroup and come up with a battle plan that would work. Letting the wildlings inside his walls wasn't ideal, but he wouldn't leave those people to those horrors in the forest. There was no hesitation from any, when he gave the order. The gates of Winterfell were close enough to order them opened. Exhaustion was making the space between their ragged group and the creatures shrink. When Ned reached the bridge, he waited at the entrance and ushered people across. Robb and Greywind were at the rear helping some injured. Jon was not amongst them. Robb crossed the bridge. "Where is Jon?" He asked his son.

Robb looked out across the rolling hills. "I thought he was with you." Ned's heart sank. They couldn't keep the gates open.

Ned followed Robb inside. "Close the gates." He gave the order and cringed when he heard the heavy gates lock into place. Jon was out there. Alive or dead, he didn't know, but for the safety of Winterfell, Jon was on his own. "Set up the tents for them." Ned gave the order and climbed the stairs to the top of his wall. "Bring me Mollen."

"She's in the crow's nest." A guard answered immediately.

Ned climbed the stairs and saw her staring out the window towards the battlegrounds. "Jon is out there?" Mollen turned to him. The silver in her eyes was hot and metallic.

"Aye, he is."

"He lives?" The hope in her voice hurt him.

"I do not know. I cannot leave the gates open."

"No" Mollen agreed. It was a small relief someone understood his decision. Mollen turned back to watch the dead walking in the distance, before facing him once again. "I will find him."

Ned watched as she pulled back her hood. Twin blades crossed her back. "I would not ask anyone to go out there."

"You cannot stop me." Mollen walked up to him. "Jon is a good man. There are so few." Mollen's face softened when she spoke of Jon.

"Mollen, bring him back to me."

Mollen bowed. "Yes your grace." Her slight form descended the stairs. He watched her glide across his wall and disappear over the edge. The dead bodies still moved in the distance. Ned caught sight of Mollen again, as she reached the wooded area that surrounded Winterfell. She looked up at him before disappearing in the woods.

"Where is she going?" Robb asked him from behind.

"To find Jon."

"You trust her?" It was no secret Robb disliked her.

"She cares for Jon. If he lives, she will find him."

"Let me go." Robb begged.

"No son, you have a wedding. Winterfell needs an heir if you, or I should fall."

Robb looked pained as he looked out the window. "Yes father. The wedding is set for a few days from now."

"Good, go to your bride. She will be worried." Robb lingered as if he wished to say more but finally turned and left. Ned sent out a prayer to the Gods to let Mollen find his son safe and alive, before descending the tower. Ned watched the extra people that came back with him. Mance was not amongst them, so he addressed his wife. "Your people can stay within our walls, as long as they cause no trouble."

"We are not kneelers."

"Aye, I know, but within my walls, you follow my rules. If you will not, I will let the Others take you."

"Yes your grace." Dalla dipped her head and started speaking with her people.

Ned glanced around the busy yard. Robert was finally walking to meet him, but at that moment, he didn't have a single care for the south or dragons. Winterfell and the North were all that mattered. "What happened out there Ned?" Robert asked, once he was at his side.

"They are real Robert. I saw them with my own eyes. The dead walk."

Robert stared at the gates. "How is this possible?" His friend wondered aloud.

"We neglected the Wall for too long. If they had more men…"

"What can men do against magic?" Robert cut him off. "The witch gave Gendry steel, but a frozen queen that lay with men?"

"It is just a story, but all stories have some truth."

Robert laughed. "So we wait for a smoking warrior."

"We wait for nothing." Ned watched as Robb organized the wildlings in some free space in the yard. There was not much room anywhere else. "At first light, we will send men out to gather and burn the dead." Robb joined him next to Robert.

"Someone needs to tell Arya about Jon." Robb said quickly.

His daughter would probably need to be locked in a room with no windows, to keep her form searching for Jon. "Not a word until I speak with her." He couldn't have his daughter lost as well. Not now, the pack had to stay together. The lone wolf dies and the pack survives. His father told him those words when he was a boy. The words stuck, but they did not make sense until now. Right now, Jon was the lone wolf.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think! I normally don't do this but I ran into a fic that i absolutely love. If you are a Sandor fan go check out The Shivering by Jalil. Sandor is very in character in my opinion which is hard to do. It's very original with nods of Sansan full of action and adventure.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20- Jon Snow

It was cold. Jon couldn't remember a cold like this, not even when the snows piled hip high. The storm settled in the night after the attack, making it impossible to make it back to Winterfell. The remaining men sat huddled around a fire, watching and waiting for the next attack or a break in the storm. No one dared leave the light of the fire. The free folk carried torches, as they guarded the group.

Robb wasn't with him and neither was his father. Jory sat huddled into his furs to Jon's right, along with a handful of Winterfell's household guards. Most of the group was the free folk. Mance was trying to keep a shaky peace between several of his people, across from him. Mance managed to settle the argument and sat down across from him. Jon watched the darkness around him, as Ghost walked the woods around them.

He hadn't gone inside his wolf, since before the attack, but he somehow managed to always know where Ghost was. "The sorceress, is she powerful?" Mance asked him, as he settled in for the night.

"I do not know; she doesn't speak of her power much. She said her magic was not enough." He didn't want Mollen anywhere near those creatures, but there was no harm in answering Mance's questions.

"It is something." Mance stretched against the tree he was sitting next to.

"We need to get back to Winterfell. Those… things are just picking us off out here." Jory said, chewing on some salted beef.

"The night is for Walkers. We will have to try and find our people at first light." Mance answered from behind closed eyes. "Get some rest."

Jory glanced at him, and Jon looked around the men in their makeshift camp. Most men were already settled in for the night. Jory shook his head and laid back; he did the same. Sleep would not find him easily. Thoughts of his father and brother passed through his mind. The idea of finding them dead in the fields or worse, a blue eyed creature coming towards, him wouldn't leave him. Sleep slipped up on him at some point in the night, but it was fitful.

Ghost would leave his mind, only to reappear later on. Something else was there with him,, something foreign yet not. It was powerful and quiet but its presence was unmistakable. His mind tangled with the heat, that was looking for something. A crackling shriek shattered the night, forcing him from his dreams.

The flames at his back were suffocating, in the heavy cold mist. The sound came again, followed by the dying yells of men. Mance and Jory were at his side, swords drawn. Somehow the creatures slipped into their camp, most likely because of the dying flames. The cracking ice sounded around them again longer this time. He had yet to see what was making the noise. The fallen men were rising next to him, and only his blade kept them down for good.

Mance and Jory burned what they could, with scavenged torches, but more came. They were surrounded with no way out, when a creature from Mollen's tale walked before them. It seemed to glide before his eyes. The sounds, coming from the being, were inhuman and terrifying. Everything inside of him was screaming to run. What was left of the light, caught the sheer blade of ice the Walker carried. The wights stopped moving, when the creature spoke, but as it said its broken words, more of the dead stood. "A good day to die." Mance said to his right.

"I would rather live." Jory said as he slashed at a wight.

Words were still failing him, as he stared at something from another land and time. He reached out and touched Ghost's mind. His wolf was running towards him, with a hooded figure in front of him. "Either way we fight." He said as the White Walker neared them. Jory and Mance attacked the wights, as the clear ice blade kissed his Valyrian steel with a hiss. The Walker was strong, and a strange cold began to work its way into his bones, slowing his movements. The sensation grew worse with each crash of their blades. Their swords met a few more times. It felt as if his insides were being frozen.

Ghost crashed through the woods and tore into a wight at his back. Mollen's silky voice filled the woods, with and eerie chant. The many dead burst into flames around him. The Walker flinched at the light, and in the momentary distraction, Jon shoved his blade through its chest. Time stood still as the creature's icy gaze tore through him. The breaking ice escaped its mouth, before it turned into a watery ash and disappeared.

Jon stood there panting; his blade still frozen in place. The camp was quiet, as Mance and Jory stared at him. "Jon" Her voice was soft and a bit broken. He turned around in time to see her fall to her knees.

Her eyes were hot silver; he could practically feel the magic flowing through her. Jon slowly walked towards Mollen, unsure of how she would react to him. He kneeled in front of here. "Mollen" She watched his every move. Mollen threw her arms around him and held tightly to him.

"I thought you were dead." She whispered. Jory went to pat Mollen on the back, only to pull his hand back with a shout of pain. Mollen's skin was burning hot, but to him it just felt warm. She scrambled back, apologizing to him.

"Mollen it is fine. I am unharmed." He moved closer to her. Mollen looked him over, examining the skin she had touched.

"I do not understand." She said quietly.

"We can figure it out later. I would like to find some kind of shelter away from here." Mance interrupted watching the woods.

"There is an old mill ruin near here." Jory offered agreeing with Mance. Mance nodded and Jon stood, helping Mollen to her feet. He led the way through the darkness. Jory and Mance were at his back, while Mollen stumbled at his side. The light, she kept around them, would fade with each of her missteps. The abandoned mill was easy enough to find in the dark, and there were no other attacks on them, as they started a fire and settled in.

Mollen collapsed on the floor, as soon as the flames were burning bright around them. She hadn't spoken since they left the destroyed camp. "I'll take the first watch." He offered; Jory and Mance just nodded and lay down to sleep on the hard floor. It wasn't long and the two men were snoring lightly. "What are you doing here?" He sank down the crumbling wall to sit next to where Mollen was lying.

"Your father came to me when he got back to Winterfell."

"He's alive?" His voice was full of relief.

"As is Robb."

"He sent you after me." Jon couldn't believe that Ned would send a woman into the woods with those creatures.

"No, I said I would find you." Mollen went quiet as she watched the flames, lost in thought. He left her to her thoughts. The quiet continued so long he thought she was sleeping, until the slight shaking of her shoulders drew his attention.

"He's gone." She whispered to the darkness. Mollen's voice was so soft; he wasn't certain he heard it.

"Who is?" Mollen rolled her head to look up at him. Tears were slowly falling down her cheeks. "Mollen" He felt something close to panic, when he saw her crying.

"My brother" Another tear fell. "I know I had one, but I do not know his face and I cannot remember his name."

He could see the hurt in her eyes as she spoke. Magic wasn't worth the price she paid for it. "You told me his name was Nico, and you two were always in trouble. He had hair like yours and eyes like the sun. You told me; he was good with a spear, and he used tease you." Jon repeated what she had told him of her brother. He was the reason she lost those memories. If he hadn't been separated from his men, she wouldn't have come to find him.

"Thank you Jon." Mollen sat up and leaned against the wall next to him. "Are you sure I did not burn you?" She was watching his neck where she had hugged him as she spoke.

"I am unharmed." He answered with a smile. Mollen sat up and glanced at the two men sleeping.

"I would like to try something." Jon nodded his head,, unsure of what she had planned. Mollen held out her hand and a small flame sprung to life. Mollen held her hand out. "Take it."

She was watching him intently. "Fire burns me like any other man, Mollen." He answered, pulling his hand away. Mollen just moved her hand over his and quickly pulled hers away. The flame scared him, and he flinched back, but it didn't burn him. He watched the small flame dance in his hand unsure of how it was possible. "Fire has burned me before, how is this possible?"

The flame died. Mollen looked around the empty space again. "You are ready for it perhaps? I do not know. I have never seen another that could touch my flames…" Mollen touched his hand lightly. "Or me after a spell."

He wanted to kiss her again, to press his lips to hers and bring her closer to him. "You should get some rest Mollen." The exhaustion on her face was apparent; she must have ran the whole way to him.

"I am tired." Mollen lay on the floor close to him and closed her eyes. It was not long before her breathing deepened, and the fire dimmed. He stayed awake for several hours, watching the darkness around them, until it was time to wake Jory, who stretched his injured arm and sat against the wall. Jon settled in next to Mollen but not too close before exhaustion took him under.

Ghost was outside hunting and keeping watch again. Jon stayed with his wolf for awhile. Once he knew what he could do, it was hard not to seek out his wolf in the night. However, the powerful heat was getting stronger, closer to what it was looking for. The land below him was moving quickly. Faster than any horse could move. The ground grew closer and his feet touched. It was harder to move on the ground. His front legs pulled him along the ground towards his prey. A boar squealed and ran, but a golden white heat took over his sight momentarily, and powerful jaws snapped at the charred pig, tearing chucks from its flesh. One powerful jump and he was above the trees again.

"Jon" Someone was shaking his shoulder. He opened his eyes and Jory was kneeling down next to him. "Where is Mollen?"

Jon looked to the empty spot next to him, where she had been when he fell asleep. He sat up and looked around the crumbling walls. "She was here."

"And now she's gone." Mance said at the door. "I didn't see her leave." They quickly gathered what supplies they had and stepped into the morning chill.

Jory found her tracks in the dim light, and they followed her into the trees. The tracks ended at the base of a large tree. "Mollen" He called quietly still not wanting to attract attention.

"Jon" They could hear her voice from somewhere above them. All three of them were watching the trees, when she tapped him on the shoulder making him jump.

"What are you doing?"

Mollen smiled widely and whispered. "Dragons" Jory and Mance looked as if she were mad. He briefly thought that the magic she did the night before took more than her brother's name.

"You saw a dragon?"

Mollen must have seen the disbelief on his face. "Not yet, they live Jon."

She was so excited, and he didn't want to tell her they were dead. He couldn't take her momentary happiness away from her, not after last night. "We should get moving; it's a long walk to Winterfell." Jory said and he agreed.

He took Mollen's hand in his and led her through the trees. The other two followed, talking occasionally. They covered a lot of ground by midday, when they took a quick break to eat and rest. They didn't have much to eat, so they mostly rested. Mollen climbed another tree to watch the sky. She honestly thought dragons were coming; he just watched her climb with a smile. She was so free and happy in the trees. Mollen dropped down next to him, when they started walking again.

They burned the bodies that they found on the way back. There were not as many as he expected there to be, but that was most likely because the dead didn't stay still any longer. They moved faster across the open fields. Snow flakes slowly started to fall from the grey sky. The smile on Mollen's face almost made the horrible events worth it. She twirled in the white flurries and laughed as she tried to catch them on her tongue. Even Mance and Jory were enjoying her bliss. Living in the north, he had become accustomed to the snow and weather, but in Mollen's eyes it seemed to be the most wonderful thing in the world.

They let her run and twirl in the falling snow, until a shadow passed over them, making them all stop in the open field. "Dragon" Mollen whispered with wide eyes. She tried to move past him towards the beast; he pulled her back before pulling his sword. "No" Mollen said firmly and pushed the tip of the blade down.

The beast was thirty paces from him. The bone colored scales shone in the low light and gold lined the crest of its tail, all the way to its crowned horns. The beast roared, making the ground shake and showing its midnight black teeth. Ghost bristled at his side, and neither Mance nor Jory moved. The molten gold eyes stared at him. Mollen whispered a word in his ear. "Say it" she commanded him quietly.

"Dracarys" He repeated the word out loud. The dragon opened its maw and a pale gold with streaks of red and orange singed the air, much like last nights drream. Mollen said something in her native tongue. Mance and Jory would not take their eyes from the dragon.

Nothing moved except Mollen. "Go to him Jon."

"He is a dragon Mollen, not a puppy."

"You… are a dragon." Mollen cupped his face when she spoke.

"He will burn me."

"If I cannot burn you, then he cannot. Our magic is one and the same." He somehow knew Mollen's words were right. He took a step forward and Ghost growled. He connected with Ghost to calm him. The dragon's golden's eyes watched him, as he approached. Mollen stayed behind him, until they were close enough to feel the dragons' heat.

There was steam coming off of the dragon's scales. It was a slow uncertain trip next to the dragon. He kept waiting for it to snap or spout flame. It just watched him with golden eyes. The dragon snapped at him lightly and steam came from its snout. Jon reached out and touched his muzzle. The scales were warm to the touch and hard under his hand. Jon was touching the beast ,when Mollen gave him another word from a safe distance behind him. He repeated the word, and his dragon knelt for him.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so late. DKoK should be up soon too. I'm not sure how i feel about this chapter so let me know. It may just be filler but it's something i guess. Poorly edited. Please forgive any problems.

Chapter 21- Gendry Waters

Fear was the only word he could think of to describe the mood in Winterfell, since King Stark and one of his sons had returned with several wildlings. The ladies in the castle no longer wished to walk the grounds unescorted, and every man was armed. The men were on edge and staying ready by honing skills in the training yards. It was like nothing he had ever seen before.

His friend was missing. Jon was somewhere outside the walls of Winterfell. Gendry hoped Jon was alive and safe somewhere out there. From what he had heard, the creatures were terrifying, which gave him doubts about Jon's safety, and truly scared him for the first time in his life.

The strange blue flame flared up and pulled him from his thoughts momentarily. The strange heat danced over the melted metal, as it sat waiting on him to mold. Mollen spoke over the first batch of steel, before King Stark rode out to the wildlings. In truth he was expecting more than a blue flame. She laughed at him when he said so, before telling him that the only magic her steel required was the hot blue flame. The plants he got for her were ground up and smeared on his tools, before being baked in the flame. There was no mixture or blood, just a few quiet words.

The metal was different too. It was still steel, but it took longer to cool and was easy to overwork. Several of his first attempts had to be melted again, before he finally managed to put out one blade that was decent. He couldn't take the time he wanted on the blades, because of the quantity that they needed.

After Mollen disappeared, King Robert sent the Hound to hone the blades, after he put a rough edge on them. It wasn't much of a change. The Hound worked quietly and left him to his work, the same as Mollen had. Many people left him to his work, because they feared what was coming. "I need a break." His thoughts were starting to distract him from his work. Sandor just set the blade down and left the forge without another word. Gendry walked across the yard. The gates were closed with the wildlings just inside the massive gate, he had fixed. Going outside the gates was against King Stark's orders.

That was exactly what he wanted to do. Jon was a friend and could take care of himself but Arya… He feared, with the rest of the castle, what Arya would do. It would be very much like her to do something drastic.

Arya hadn't talked to him at all since Myrcella and she were at his forge, and he couldn't exactly hunt her down within the castle. He saw her, but never where he could talk to her. Not that she would want to talk to him. Maybe it was better if she wanted nothing to do with him.

The Godswood was calling to him. The old Gods weren't his, but they were Jon's. The foreign, white tree towered over the clearing. The red sap, weeping out of the eyes, had him rethinking his decision to come here. Leaves crunched behind him. "What are you doing here?" Arya demanded.

"I was going to pray." Gendry tried to keep his voice calm, but the irritation that came with talking to Arya crept in.

"They are not your Gods." Arya's voice was like ice.

"They are Jon's." Arya walked around him and climbed on top of a large rock near the water.

"He's alive; I know he is." Arya said fiercely. He wasn't as sure, but he let Arya have her hope. The silence stretched between them. Gendry looked back at the tree. He wanted to apologize but couldn't find the words. "I'm going to get him." Of course she would.

He shook his head. "Arya please don't."

"I cannot just leave him out there alone."

"Please Arya." He begged. "Give Mollen a chance to find him."

"Why does she get to leave and I don't?"

"Can you start fires with a thought?" Arya glared at him. He really shouldn't have smarted off, but with her he couldn't help it. "I know you can fight, but what is out there does not bleed."

"Why do you care if I go?" Damn her for asking that question. It always came down to that question. His throat closed up, and his words failed him. "Well?" Arya pushed.

"I don't want to see you get hurt." Gendry confessed. It was an innocent enough confession.

"That's not an answer." Why did she have to piss him off so much? "Why do I even bother?" Arya jumped down in a huff.

He grabbed her wrist. "Arya please stay. Jon is a good fighter. Let him find his way back."

"I cannot lose Jon." He heard her whisper. His other hand came to a rest on her shoulder. He wanted to say that she wouldn't, that Jon would be fine and home soon, but he couldn't lie to her. Instead he pulled her to his chest and hugged her. He shouldn't, but he did.

"Arya, give him time. If he's not back by the full moon, I will go look for him."

"We will go look for him." Arya looked up at him from beneath his arms.

She felt so right in his arms. "We will go." Gendry promised before reluctantly letting her go. He glanced at the heart tree and said a silent prayer that Jon would make it back and soon, so he didn't have to fulfill his promise to her. Arya glanced at him, giving him small smile that pierced his heart, before she left. Gendry waited a few quiet moments in the woods, before returning to his work.

The latest blade he was working on was just finished, when turned to find Arya sitting on the window sill. "Arya? What are you doing?" He glanced quickly at Clegane, who was sitting out of Arya's sight.

"Mother made me leave. I was bugging her and Jon is gone…" Her words hung in the air as her feet swung freely below her.

"Jon is dead." The Hound said from his perch on his chair. Arya jumped down and lunged at the beast of a man. Gendry caught her in midair, before she reached him.

"Sandor, I believe it's time for you to break your fast." Sandor smirked, but stood and left. It was a good thing King Robert ordered Sandor to obey him. Only when Sandor had completely disappeared from sight, did he set Arya on the ground.

"He's not dead." She said stubbornly. "He can't be." She finished weakly.

"He has Ghost with him. Jon will be back before you know." He wasn't used to comforting distraught ladies, and he had been through this already with her.

"I should be looking for him." It was like talking in circles with her.

"Mollen will find him."

"No one knows where she went, if she even went after him." Arya was just arguing to argue now.

"Why don't you sharpen that blade, milady?" He pushed a finished blade, that just required the razor edge he knew it would carry, into her small hands. Arya glared at him, before sitting down to work. Arya worked quietly, even when Sandor returned. Sandor would start the edge, and Arya would finish it. He was eight swords and three days in ,when the metal in the old mill stone was too low to make another blade. "That's it for now."

Arya looked at what was left of the dark blue burning metal. "What about that?"

"It's not enough for another blade."

"It's a shame to waste it." She was right.

"I'll think of something."

"Will the fire go out?"

"It hasn't yet." The flame burned for days and hadn't faltered yet. There would be no new steel, unless Mollen returned. He heard the horn, signaling that riders were coming towards Winterfell. Arya mumbled something and left. She wasn't allowed to be outside, when they opened the gates.

He knew there weren't many men outside the walls. Gendry hoped that it was Jon returning, as he grabbed his sword and hammer before hurrying to the gates. All the men were armed and ready for a fight, as they waited for word up above. King Stark and King Robert arrived with the rest of the men. It was strangely quiet as the men waited for word of fight or friend. "It's the Greatjon your grace." A man from above yelled down. Lord Umber rode out to meet up with his son and bannermen. The wildling attacks came earlier to the Bay of Seals. The Greatjon was furious about the wildlings crossing into his lands, but Lord Umber was the first of them to see the wights. The Greatjon sent for his son, and a force to ride to Winterfell. It seemed that King Stark was gathering his men for a full out attack.

The gates were raised and a small party rode in and dismounted. There was no mistaking Jon 'the Smalljon' Umber. The man had the look of his father. Gendry stood behind the line of Lords, as the announcements were made. He hadn't noticed that Queen Stark had Lady Sansa and Arya ready to meet the incoming party. The Smalljon greeted the women like lords did, but the man's eyes lingered on Arya far too long. "Lady Arya, it is truly a pleasure. The men tell great stories about you." The words the man spoke had Gendry's fists clenching and his temper rising. Arya pulled her hand away, but offered a small smile.

That was all the lords and ladies he could take. He turned and left the gathering, heading straight for his forge. At least there he could cease to think. Thinking wasn't good for him, if he thought too much he would think about what had him so upset. He threw the sword he was working down and cursed. A lot of good a sword would do him. He wasn't a swordsman. The hammer was what called to him. A hammer wouldn't help him when the dead came for them. In all of history, he had never heard of a Valyrian warhammer. The steel was too light to be effective. The hammer, that his father had built for him, lay at his feet.

There wasn't much of the molten metal left, definitely not enough to make a hammer but maybe… Gendry grabbed the herb mixture Mollen used on his tools and smeared it all over the hammer. The poultice stunk, but it protected the metal from high heat. Gendry thrust the hammer in the fire and watched as the mixture hardened around his hammer. He gently dipped the hammer in the hot Valyrian metal, so it wouldn't destroy the integrity of the steel core. Gendry slowly worked the magic of old, forming and shaping what would be his. Something had to be his.

Finally late into the night the warhammer glimmered in the firelight. It was a beautiful black, and the new coating added very little weight to it. With nothing left to do, he decided to turn in for the night. On his way back to his room, he saw two silhouettes in the moonlight. One of them was tall, as tall as he was. The other was slight,, lean and graceful. That silhouette, he was painfully familiar with. Gendry watched the two slowly walk the grounds. His feet wouldn't move until they long disappeared.

He snuck a few skins of wine on his way back, and he drank greedily, once in his room. Normally he wasn't much of a drinker, but tonight he was. It didn't take long for him to pass out for the night.

It was stupid to drink so much and his head told him that, with every movement he made. There were a few greetings as he walked to the main hall, but he could only grunt in response. There was a mass of people in the training yard. In the middle of the area, stood the Smalljon, throwing man after man around.

Gendry watched the Northman fight. The men from the south were usually better at swordsmanship, but the Northmen were better in a fight. Umber laughed loudly, at the end of each fight. "Is this all the South can offer?" Umber hollered with a great laugh. Normally arrogance never bothered him, but the Smalljon did.

"You haven't fought the entire south." The words that came out of his mouth were just as cocky.

"No, I have not faced a King's bastard." There were a few laughs around him. "Come on."

Gendry stepped in and grabbed the blunt sword, wishing it were his hammer. It was different having someone his size across from him. He was used to better swordsmen and quicker feet, but he always had his strength. Gendry attacked first. The blades met and froze over their heads, as they fought for dominance. Gendry stepped back and shoved his opponents' blade away. He rushed forward and put his shoulder in Umber's chest, knocking him back. Gendry took advantage and pressed the attack once again, hacking and slashing. Neither was spectacular with a sword and both relied on their strength.

The men cheered around them as they circled and crashed into each other. The Smalljon knocked his sword out of his hand, but Gendry tackled his opponent, sending them both to the ground. He grabbed Umber's sword and brought it to his throat. "Yield!" Umber said laughing. Gendry slowly stood and extended his hand to help Jon up. The giant man slapped him on the back laughing. "Hell of a fighter."

"I'm shit with a sword. You're lucky I didn't have hammer."

"Baratheon's and their hammers." The Smalljon laughed once again. "Anyone ever tell you that you fight like someone stole your woman?" He choked back words, as the men laughed around him. Maybe he was a Baratheon. Arya was worth fighting a war for.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is rated M for a reason. Too many Robb feels. I thought i was ready for "it" I mean i knew it was coming but I was left broken once again. Damn you GRRM and HBO. Thank you for all the attention this is receiving good bad or otherwise. I feel like my writing has improved as both of my stories progress. Thanks for riding out the rough spots.

Chapter 22- Robb Stark

It was all so strange. He was going to be a married man soon. “Jon should be here.” Robb told Theon, while they put up their game. 

“Snow will be back. You can’t get rid of a bastard.” Robb glared at Theon, who only shrugged. 

His father and King Robert continued to move up the wedding date up,, until the day was upon him. There was no denying he was nervous, though he tried to hide it. He wanted nothing more than to speak with Myrcella today, but wasn’t allowed. Her mother had her locked in her room, doing whatever it was that women did on their wedding day. “I need to go for a ride.” 

“To bad King Stark has us locked in.” 

“I have to do something.” Robb paced small circles around the table. Greywind’s eyes followed him, but his wolf made no move to follow. 

“Give me some time. I’ll figure something out.” Theon left him with a smirk plastered on his face. Whatever Theon was planning couldn’t be good; nothing good came with that smirk. 

His chamber was being scrubbed form to top bottom. All the bedding was being stripped down and changed. Tonight duty required him to break her maidenhead, but Myrcella made him want to be with her the way a husband was with a wife. 

Many times Robb attempted to do some work; just small things that needed to be done, but he couldn’t complete one of them. He found himself walking the grounds, hoping something would distract his racing mind. People of Winterfell were busy hustling around, preparing for the big day. Many greeted him with smiles and waves. A few slapped him on the back and offered him advice on the bedding. The advice was the worst. He knew how to bed a woman, but it was different this time. He didn’t want to hurt her, but it would. 

Theon hadn’t been spotted, since his friend had left him earlier. That really couldn’t be good. Robb walked toward the South gate one more time. The sound of arguing filled the air as he drew closer to the forge. He couldn’t hear the words, but he thought he recognized one of the voices. Thankful for a distraction, he walked quickly to the forge. 

Robb pushed open the door. Where he saw Arya shoving her finger into Gendry’s chest, as the smith backed up. A smirk spread across Robb’s face, until he saw the look Gendry was giving his little sister. The bastard was enjoying the way his sister was scolding him. Neither one of them noticed him standing in the doorway. After Arya finished her tongue lashing, Gendry simply pressed her hand to his lips. “As milady commands.” Gendry offered with a slight smirk. It was a mocking statement that infuriated Arya further. His little sister shoved Gendry. 

Robb cleared his throat, causing Arya to spin quickly like she had been caught. Gendry took a step away from Arya. “My lord, Are you here for your sword?” Gendry finally asked, looking at the ground, before meeting his stare. His father told him that he would get one of the Valyrian steel blades. 

“Aye” That was a better excuse than the truth. “Arya, I am sure mother is looking for you.” He had to speak with Gendry alone. There was something that was starting to worry him. 

“Most likely.” Arya answered and sat down. 

“Arya go find mother.” 

“Why? It’s your stupid wedding.” She crossed her arms and glared. Arya truly was annoying, when she wanted to be. 

“Arya!” Robb raised his voice in irritation. 

“Fine!” Arya stood abruptly and pushed passed him letting the door slam. Gendry turned and pulled a cloth off of the black steel. The metal shone eerily in the dim light. The work looked excellent. 

“Your father told me to let you have your pick. Robert already took one and Joffrey couldn’t lift one.” The smirk Gendry gave was one he couldn’t help but share. Very few people liked the Southern prince. Robb turned a few blades over, as he thought on how to approach the topic. 

“Arya has been here a lot lately.” Gendry’s eyes darted to the blade in his hand then back up to meet his gaze. 

“She’s been helping while Jon is missing.” 

“She has never offered to help anyone before.” Gendry glanced at him again before carefully wiping his hands. “I believe my father plans on wedding Arya to Jon Umber.” Gendry stopped moving and took a steadying breath. If he had any doubts about Gendry’s feelings before, they were gone now. Usually it was men infatuated with Sansa, he had to have little chats like this with. “Look Gendry, I’ll admit I didn’t care for you when you arrived, but you’re a good man.” This was probably a conversation that would probably be given by his father, but that would put Gendry in even more trouble. The time he spent sparring and talking with the guy; he developed a reluctant respect. Gendry set down another sword without a word. The look on the guys face was neutral. 

“This blade has the best balance.” Gendry picked up a beautiful hand and a half sword with a simple pommel. Robb lifted the sword and swung it around testing its weight and feel. 

“This one will do nicely.” Gendry just nodded. Robb took his new sword and left stopping at the door. “You are good with your hands. I would hate to have to take them or more.” Robb stepped through the door hating himself for the threat. A few steps outside he stopped. Something was happening but he wasn’t sure what it was. It was just a feeling. Arya was running towards him quickly. The feelings he was having could only be explained as joy, but it wasn’t his. “Arya!” He yelled to slow her down. 

Arya paused outside the forge to catch her breath. “Jon” She panted. 

“There have been no horns.” He said to argue, but somehow he knew she told the truth. 

Arya glared briefly and ran the rest of the way up the stairs onto the wall. Robb followed quickly and eased the guards discomfort about Arya on the edge of the wall. His eyes scanned the horizon and the edge of the Wolfswood, trying to confirm his feelings. Arya had her head cocked to the side and looked far away. “There!” She pointed, bobbing up and down on her heels. It was several moments until he saw the dark figures emerge from the woods. Robb signaled for the horn. At this distance it was hard to tell for certain who it was, but the walk and posture of one of them told him his brother was returning. 

The horns blew several times, and all they could do was wait. His father joined them at some point. It seemed like an eternity before it was confirmed that it was Jon, a living Jon, and three other people. Ghost was the first through the gate, where the wolf wrestled with his brothers and sister. 

The tired group limped inside Winterfell as the gates crashed behind them. Jon was close to a tattered Mollen; Jory and the King Beyond the Wall followed them looking relieved. His father greeted the group embracing Jory and Jon, while informing Mance where his people were. Arya attached herself to Jon as soon as she got the chance. “Snow!” He said happily. Jon placed Arya gently on the ground, before pulling Robb into a tight embrace. 

“Stark” Jon greeted in return. 

“You are just in time brother.” 

“What happened?” Arya interrupted. 

“I think that can wait.” Ned cut Arya off with a stern look. The yard was no place for that conversation. 

“What am I in time for?” Jon asked when there was break in the conversation. 

“My wedding.” Jon looked shocked but recovered with a smile. 

“I think our story can wait until after the wedding.” 

“Very well” Ned said dismissing himself and Jory. 

“I was not sure we would see you again.” Robb said quietly after the crowd dispersed. 

“You wouldn’t have if it wasn’t for Mollen.” He forgot about her like everybody else had. No one greeted her like the others. Even Mance had people within Winterfell. “She found us just as we were attacked.” Robb looked over the small woman, before reaching out and pulling her into a hug. “Mollen no!” Jon said at his back, and he let go of her. A wicked dagger was in her hand. 

Mollen looked at Jon as she spoke. “I should check on my… friends.” Mollen did give him and apologetic smile, before leaving which he was more than happy to accept; she brought Jon back. 

“She was going to stab me?” 

“You cannot just grab her like that. She is not used to our customs.” 

“I will apologize.” 

“It is not necessary. Ask to touch her in the future.” 

“You should clean up for the ceremony.” Jon nodded and they walked back to the castle. Jon told him briefly what had happened, but he knew his brother was leaving things out. 

They were both cleaned up and waiting, when Theon barged into his room. “Snow! I told you that you couldn’t kill a bastard.” Theon slapped Jon on the back before sitting down. 

There was another knock on the door, and Gendry stepped in when Robb answered, giving him a slight bow. “I heard you were back, Jon. I wanted to see for myself. 

“Come in” Theon ordered smirking. That was definitely the ‘I am up to something smirk.’ Gendry sat next to Jon and there were a few strange moments of conversation, before the knock on the door sounded once again. Four women filed inside. They were the ones left from the tents; if he hadn’t known that, the sheer fabric was a give away. 

“What is this Theon?” 

“You need to relax and they agreed to a show.” 

“This isn’t appropriate.” This was his room and soon to be Myrcella’s as well. 

“Sure it is. You’re gonna be married soon. This is your last chance at freedom.” Theon pushed him back to a chair making him sit. “Just a show; nothing more.” 

Robb conceded, knowing Theon wouldn’t let this go. There was no music, but it didn’t seem to bother the women. As they danced, he kept thinking about his wedding. It was getting closer. His nerves were so bad he barely noticed the gyrating hips in front of him. 

Theon was enjoying himself of course, while Gendry and Jon watched the women like they normally did. A knock on the door made him jump, and his father stepped inside. Ned’s normally stern face registered a mild surprise, as he looked around the room. “We best get down there; the ceremony starts soon.” The ladies ducked their heads and left the room. Theon and Gendry followed without a word. Robb looked between his father and brother. The nerves that he forced himself to ignore came back with a vengeance. The walk from his room to the Godswood went by far too quickly. 

If it hadn’t been for Jon being next to him; he may have ran. Hundreds of faces watched him ,as he stood with the Septon in front of the Heart tree. His mother and Sansa were crying. His father gave him a reassuring smile. Bran watched everything carefully, while Arya and Rickon playfully shoved each other. Theon gave him a nod and for once wasn’t smiling. Jon stood next to Mollen, discreetly holding her hand; he was sure of that. He had to look twice. Robb glanced over the crowd of familiar faces and tried to hide his trembling hands. 

A hush fell over the people, and King Robert came into view. Myrcella was stunning in a black shimmery dress with golden trim and detailing. Her long golden hair was styled of the north and tumbled freely around her shoulders. He had to remind himself to breathe. As she came closer it hit him that she would be his and only his. The forced smile on his face transformed into one of sheer joy. Robert handed Myrcella to him with some joke he didn’t hear. They repeated the Septon’s words, before he removed her Baratheon cloak and wrapped her in his Stark one, signifying that by the Old Gods and the New she was his to protect. 

There were many cheers as they led the way back for the feast. Many dishes were brought before them, far too many to be practical. Myrcella smiled and talked sweetly with everyone. For most of the night, he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. Before he knew what was happening, the bedding was being called for. Myrcella blushed beautifully, but he could see how much it scared her. He liked the tradition, until he saw the fear in her eyes. 

Ladies pulled him away from her and grabbed all over him. His tunic and buttons were pulled off of him. The words coming out of their mouths were not fit for ladies. As they pulled him down a hallway, he saw Gendry scoop up Myrcella and shove the other men away from her. 

The Ladies had him down to his small clothes, when he gently swatted hands away from him. The door to his room was slightly ajar, so he backed in protecting himself from the horde of giggling women. The bawdy jokes and laughter could still be heard on his side of the door, but it was nowhere as loud as it had been. When he turned around, he saw Myrcella sitting stiffly on the edge of the bed; her cheeks still flushed pink. The silence between them swelled until he felt he had to say something. “Remind me to thank Gendry.” 

Myrcella looked down. “That was awful.” 

Robb stepped closer but still left some distance between them. Myrcella stood and his cloak fell from her shoulders. The thin material of her small clothes hung tightly to her curves. The complex dresses, she usually wore, hid so much of her from his sight. He felt himself stir, and had to silently calm himself down. Myrcella turned away from him. Before he could try to comfort her, the material began to scrunch up as she slipped it over her head, leaving her back bare. His breathing accelerated. She then stepped out of the bottoms, showing him all of her lovely ass. 

His cock was throbbing with anticipation. Never in his dreams had he believed shy, sweet Myrcella would be so bold. Robb pulled his tunic over his head, only then did he notice her trembling hands. “Myrcella” Her name quietly left his lips. Her arms crossed her chest and she turned to face him. 

Myrcella looked terrified. “Mother said it will hurt.” Her voice faltered slightly. 

“We do not have to tonight if you do not wish to.” 

“No… do you not want to?” Myrcella looked down as her cheeks flamed. “I know my body is not a woman’s yet.” 

“I want to very much Mella.” He used his nickname for her. “If you would look at me, you would see what you do to me.” Myrcella looked up and her eyes drifted down his body. She blushed once again and looked away quickly. “I would like to kiss you my lady.” 

Myrcella gave a slight nod and he moved to stand before her. The tips of his fingers gently traced the lines of her face, before he leaned in to capture her lips with his. While kissing her, he managed to move them closer to the bed. Myrcella relaxed and began to pull him closer to her. Her bare chest met his and threatened to undue him then and there. 

He broke the kiss and gently eased her onto the bed, before kissing her once again. He had her laid out on the bed next to him, while his fingers traced the lines of her firm body. His hands explored her for some time, before he felt she was finally relaxed enough for him to explore her folds. Myrcella jumped slightly at the contact, but he kissed away her nerves. He began to stretch her for him and get her used to the intrusion. “Robb” Myrcella whimpered next to his ear. His patience was running thin. Every attention he paid to her body was sending him closer to his release. 

Robb crawled up the bed and kissed her deeply, as he positioned himself over her. She flinched when his tip teased her entrance. She was deliciously wet, but he would go slowly for her. Once she was relaxed and seemed to be enjoying his movements, he gently pushed his tip inside of her. The blissful, constricting warmth had him fighting not to thrust deeper inside of her. 

Myrcella’s breath would catch, but she never cried out as he pushed further inside of her. He kissed her face and neck, as he filled her with all of him. She was perfect. He felt complete buried inside of her. The gentle movements were very hard for him to maintain. Every cell in his body wanted to pump frantically into her, but he kept to the slow pace pumping in and out of her. 

Myrcella was staying still, but as her discomfort ebbed, she began to move with him; his restraint shattered. Her movements, coupled with his, had him thrusting frantically before long, and he spent his seed deep within her. His head was nestled in her chest, when he looked up at her she smiled briefly at him. Myrcella was his now, and he had the rest of their lives to love her this way. The thought had him completely and utterly happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jon didn't bring his dragon with him, it will be explained next chapter.


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23-Robert Baratheon

The waiting had him irritable. It was either that or not drinking. Robert and his party were in Winterfell for close to two months now. Cersei demanded to go south, after Myrcella’s wedding several weeks ago. There were frozen, walking, dead men outside the walls, but she insisted. He let her take a large company, just to shut her up. Unfortunately, her persistent bitching allowed her to take Tommen with her, along with the Kingslayer. Where she went, her golden shadow followed. It was nothing to him that she was gone. Cersei was a title, a courtesy that they insisted he have. 

Robert poured a small amount of wine into a goblet, to keep him from shaking. There was a battle coming; he could feel it in his bones, and he'd be damned if he wasn’t ready for it. Years of sitting in that bloody chair, that he never wanted, changed him, made him softer. His bastard gave him some of his youth back. The boy was strong and a quick learner, much quicker than he ever was. 

Very few of his children managed to hold his attention in his lifetime. Mya, his first, was a babe the last time he saw her. She would laugh when he threw her in the air. The noble born one, he saw once, but never took a second look. Ned urged him to claim Gendry, and he was glad he did. Unlike his true born children, Robert could see himself in Gendry, and not only in looks. The boy was stubborn and had a temper. 

Robert slapped a serving wench on the ass, before grabbing some cheese and leaving the kitchen. Since the wildlings attacked, he and Ned were meeting regularly to discuss strategy. Of course, Ned was in his solar, but another man was standing in the room. The man stood and bowed, looking more than a little nervous. “What is it Ned?” 

“Ser Raynold brings grave news from the Neck.” The look on Ned’s face foreshadowed the news that was about to come. 

Robert leaned against the ancient Weirwood table. “Out with it.” He ordered; he never was a patient man. 

“Yes your grace, Moat Cailin has been captured.” 

“Have you been drinking?” There was no one in Westeros that would take the ruins. Sure they were a stronghold, but hardly worth the effort. 

“No your grace.” The Ser stumbled over his words. 

“Who took the moat?” 

“Dragons” 

Robert laughed good and long. “Ned, you’re listening to fools and witches now?” 

“Your Grace is saw them. There was two. One was black as night, the other was as green as a Crannogman’s eyes.” 

Robert’s fists curled against the table, making the knight nervous. “There is an army there now Robert.” Ned watched his every move. 

Robert grunted. “Enemies to our north and south, we’ll destroy one then the other.” He answered easily. His armies from the south could keep the dragon bitch busy. 

“Robert” Ned hesitated. “That is not all.” 

“What is it?” He was beyond pissed. The fucking dragons were back, if only they could have killed the dragon bitch. 

Ned took a deep breath. “Cersei’s riding party was attacked. I’m sorry Robert, but Joffrey and Cersei were killed.” 

The news should have hit harder. His wife and heir was dead, it didn’t. “The dragon bitch will pay. How big is her party?” He said through clenched teeth. 

“I saw 20 ships in the bay. There could be more.” 

“Is that all?” He needed to be done with this news. 

“No one has seen Ser Jamie or the little prince.” 

“Very well, leave us.” The Ser left, and the room stayed quiet. “Did my armies get through?” 

“We haven’t heard. I’ll send word to Howland Reed to keep a watch for them. We can get them through the Neck if we have too, but it will take more time.” 

“Stannis has sailed?” 

“Aye, and Renly marches with Highgarden.” 

More waiting, it was the only thing he hated about war. “Have the scouts spotted any of the Others?” It still sounded like a jest when he spoke of them. 

“A few wights have been spotted going North.” 

“How do you out think a dead man?” Robert asked aloud. Ned didn’t have an answer for him. “I’ll send a few men out to look for Tommen.” 

“Of course.” Tommen was the heir to the throne now. He needed to be found, dead or alive. 

“The dragons are a problem.” 

Ned took a deep breath. “Maybe not, Robert you will not want to hear what I have to tell you.” Targaryens, he knew what this was about. “Robert… there are three dragons.” 

Robert finally took a seat chuckling. “You’re seeing dragons too?” 

“Aye” All humor drained from him. Ned wasn’t one to lie or jest. “While Jon was missing, one found him.”

“You can’t expect me to believe this.” 

“I have seen it. The… beast is larger than a horse and white as bone. Jon is a Targaryen, he is connected to it.” 

Just that name sent a flare of anger through him. “He is a bastard!” 

“No, he is not.” Robert stared angrily at Ned, but wasn’t able to find words. “Robert at the tower of Joy, Lyanna told me what happened. Father was making her marry a man she didn’t’ know. Rhaegar stole her heart, not her. She went willingly and married him. She was sorry for the trouble she caused, but not Jon.” Ned’s words were worse than a sword through the gut. His Lyanna couldn’t have loved another. “She was just a girl and he was the prince. A prince obsessed with a prophecy. He used her Robert.” Ned continued to fill the silence. “She was full of stories and songs.” 

“Why now, why tell me now?” Robert didn’t bother hiding the pain in his voice. 

“We may need Jon to help stop another war.” 

“She’s here for my bloody crown!” He yelled. 

“I know… Robert if we can prevent a full on war with her, we need to. Winter is coming and the Others may take us all.” 

“The Others need to be dealt with first.” 

“We agree on that. The scouting party should be back soon.” 

“Then we ride.” These creatures had to be dealt with and he was losing patience. Then he would kill the dragons once again. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ned Stark

Robert was worrying him. It was two weeks since Cersei and Joffrey were confirmed dead. Tommen was still missing, and Robert didn’t seem to care. All that mattered to Robert was that most of his army managed to make it through the Neck. Unfortunately, Renly was still south of the Moat and cut off from reinforcements. Howland Reed was looking for ways to get the entire army through faster. 

The Others were quiet for only the Gods knew why. The scouts saw very few while they were riding; all that were spotted were heading north. The Dreadfort and the Bay of Seals sent word that neither were attacked recently. 

The men were getting restless. They were done waiting. With the armies all closing in, it was time for them to act. It was more than a little painful saying goodbye to Cat. There were a few small trips away from home in times of peace, but for the most part, since the war, he hadn’t been away from her. Robb was having a harder time leaving his new bride, who couldn’t stop her tears. The poor girl was having a terrible month. Arya refused to come out of her chambers to say goodbye; she was furious that she couldn’t come. Catelyn, Sansa, Bran, and Rickon stood in a line, as he mounted his horse. Robb disentangled himself from his young bride, while Jon tried to keep a horse calm enough for Mollen to mount. 

Robert was mounted on his warhorse, hammer strapped to his side. Gendry was quietly seated next to him. There were many other Lords waiting to ride out with them, and even more waiting to join them, on their march to chase the Others from the world. The entire army was pressing north to take the fight to the enemy. 

With on last look at his family, Ned turned his horse out of the gate. Robert rode next to him uncharacteristically quiet. The men followed in columns. Robb and Jon rode at his back, while Gendry flanked Robert. Lords from the north rode with their men, as they slowly moved toward the unknown. They traveled ten days at a steady pace, only stopping for the night with a cold camp. Mance’s wildlings, that chose to come, often scouted the woods. Ned thought that would utilize them the best. 

Their destination was Queenscrown. The men started setting up the heavy, canvas tents once they arrived. The snow was piling up and seemed to get heavier the closer they got to the Wall. By sunset the canvas city was set up, and men had fires burning bright. Ned ordered the men to rest. It was a long hard march. The armies from the south slowed them down, with their small wheeled wagons and large war horses. 

Ned paused and looked around their camp. Somewhere out there was a dragon. Luckily, Jon had the sense not to ride the creature into Winterfell, despite Mollen’s encouragement. The men were spooked enough without seeing dragons. Jon told him, he could communicate with the beast somewhat. It had stayed out of sight so far, unlike Mollen. The men were grudgingly accepting the girl. Jory told him how the wights burst into flames with her words, and Ned made sure to let that rumor spread. The men were more accepting if they thought the creatures could be killed so easily. 

Ned, Robert and a few other Lords met in the main tent to discuss the course of action. The arguing went on for hours. None of the scouting could ever locate the Others, but all their movements pointed to around this area. The men were about to launch another round of debates. “We wait until morning.” He finally had enough. 

“Ned’s right, the night belongs to the walkers.” Robert added, standing to make his point. “Make sure the fires stay lit and the guards stay awake.” The counsel of men broke apart, leaving the two kings to themselves. Robert grabbed a pitcher of wine and poured two small glasses. “We’re getting old Ned.” 

He chuckled. “The ride is not as easy as it used to be.” 

“The ride and the beds.” 

“War is for the young.” 

“How’s your boy holding up?” Robert poured another small glass.

“He misses his wife, but his head is here.” 

Robert nodded. “I’m going to legitimize Gendry.” Ned waited for Robert to say more, he didn’t 

“That is going to anger some.” 

Robert placed an empty glass on the table. “I know; I need an heir, and Tommen is still missing. He’ll need help if something happens.” 

“He’s got it.” Ned didn’t hesitate. It was an old tradition they had during the wars. If one of them fell, the other would watch out for the other’s family. 

“He’ll need a good wife.” Ned sighed. Sansa’s proposal did fall through. “Sansa will make a great queen.” 

“Not her, the younger one.” 

“Arya?” He couldn’t hide his shock. 

“Yes the little she wolf, he’s quite fond of her.” That bit of news caught him off guard. Many told him about the time Arya spent in the forge, but he brushed it off. Arya was always where she wasn’t supposed to be. “I know he’s a bastard Ned, but she doesn’t seem to mind.” 

“We will worry about that when this is over.” Gendry would be a king if Tommen was not found and Arya a queen, if he allowed the match. The thought made him want to laugh. Sansa would be furious if Arya were married before her, and Arya would send the people in Kings Landing running in fear. It wasn’t that he was against the match, but even legitimized, Gendry was a bastard. Lord Umber proposed a match for Arya as well, and would take it as a slight if he refused for Gendry. All of this was just more to tuck away for after the war. 

The camp was always quiet at night. It was a strange quiet, almost unnatural. Nothing moved and not a sound was heard. Still, nothing occurred for the few weeks they were at camp. Few of the men managed good rest, but everyone else was on edge. Most of the men chose to sit out in the cold with the other men, just to hear voices. “What the fuck are they waiting for?” Sandor Clegane asked, sitting as far from the flames as possible. 

“Their Queen.” He heard Mollen speak for the first time, since they left. 

“How do you know?” Ned was standing near the flames watching the girl. 

Mollen looked at him from under the bundle of furs. Jon touched her shoulder, as if willing her to speak. “Her magic is strong. I can feel it coming.” There were murmurs from the men. Mollen pulled the furs around her tightly, when a burst of cold air blew through the camp. The men went silent. A light snow followed the gust. Several tense moments passed, before the men relaxed and settled back into their spots. Ned looked over at Mollen for some reason. The girl was tense, and from the look on her face, afraid. 

“The cold brings death.” Jon whispered, moving closer to Mollen. Ned watched his son, before turning to the camp. Dread was seeping into his bones. They called the banners and led them north, but this was no ordinary war. Robert was right; it was impossible to out think the dead. Slowly, the men broke apart for the night. Ned’s tent was slightly warmer than the outside air. As he slipped beneath the furs, he wished to be in the warmth of his wife’s arms. 

Sleep would not find him. The silence and his thoughts kept him fighting to rest. The cold, chill seemed to move around him. Unable to sleep, Ned dressed for the day and looked over his maps until the early morning. The fire outside was dying down. Ned grabbed Ice and stepped outside. Men were piling wood onto the flames, but they wouldn’t burn. The cold was suffocating. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mollen run from her tent, Jon following closely. “They are here!” Jon yelled out across the camp. The horn blew and the men started stumbling out of their tents. 

Ned watched the edge camp. He couldn’t see anything amiss, so he pulled Jon aside. “Jon there is nothing out there.” 

“She feels them.” 

“We cannot wake the camp on a feeling.” The flames, from the large center fire, jumped high into the air. The terrifying shriek shattered the early dawn. The sound of swords being drawn surrounded him. Mollen started to chatter in Valyrian, which caused more cracking ice to permeate the air. The empty space around them started to shimmer like ice, as the forms of the walkers took shape amongst the men. The shouts from the edge of the camp signaled the wights arrival. The Walkers called out in their strange tongue and turned towards the central fire, where Mollen stood. He drew Ice. Mollen was on her knees, dazed. Jon disappeared in the chaos. There were half a dozen Walkers in the camp. The men that attacked only managed to slow them down before they were killed. 

Ned moved to intercept the creatures before they could reach the girl. Ice touched the blade of one of the larger creatures. It felt as if ice water was running trough his veins. The hiss of the blades drowned out all other sounds. The monster seemed to be toying with him. Its swings seemed lazy compared to his. His arms ached and his body was cold. Mollen rolled into sight, slashing at another creature. The Walker he was fighting turned away form him, giving him the chance to act. Ned’s blade pierced the creatures side, making it disintegrate before his eyes. There was no time to savor his victory. 

The reaming Others were closing in around him. At least that was what he thought at first. They weren’t surrounding him; they were after Mollen, who was doing her best to avoid the razor thin blades. He hurried to her side. If they wanted her dead enough that they would attack in the middle of camp, then she had to be protected at all costs. 

She ducked under a blade, as another slashed at her back. Ice deflected the sword, and he shoved back. Mollen jumped on top of it’s back, jamming a dirk into its back; she rode the ashes to the ground. Another one lunged at her, while she tried to catch her breath. Ned jumped in to block once again, but the sword deflected wide. The iridescent sword cut through his leathers and settled into his chest. Ice lodged into its skull, finishing the Walker, but the damage was done. 

His life was slowly draining out of him, as his blood covered the frosty ground. Ned’s injured leg buckled first, and he hit the ground. The battle was all but over. His strength was failing him. His body slumped the rest of the way to the ground. “Father!” He heard the yells around him and fought the darkness to make sure his sons were still safe. 

“Damnit Ned!” Robert sank to the ground and propped him up. Robb was standing over him with barely contained tears. They were all just kids.

A shadow passed over him, and the ground shook softly. Ned pulled himself up enough to watch Jon slide off his beautiful white beast and run towards him. “Get the Maester.” Robb yelled, his voice full of authority. In that moment Ned knew his son’s would be alright without him. 

He closed his eyes to clear his blurry vision. When they opened again, Mollen was looking down at him. He didn’t need a maester to know he was a dead man. “Why?” Mollen’s usually steady voice wavered. 

“They…” His voice fell off. “wanted… you.” It hurt to speak. “Jon, Robb, keep her safe. Tell Cat… I’m sorry.” 

Robert was still holding him up. “Damnit Ned, You always were to damn good for this world.” There was a sadness in his friends voice he’d never heard before. He knew Robert would morn for him in his own way. 

“The deal Robert…” A fit of coughs hit him, bringing up blood. 

“Always Ned” 

“Fix him Mollen.” Robb demanded. 

“You do not know what you ask.” 

“It can be done though?” Robb insisted. 

“I do not do blood magic.” 

He could not keep his eyes open, but he could hear them. “It is… too late. I need you to take care” The next coughing fit was less painful, but the blood threatened to choke him. “of your mother and siblings. Finish this war and get home. Winter is here.” The words took forever to get out but he managed. 

“Yes father.” Robb’s voice cracked. Even with the darkness around him, he knew his boy was crying, and Jon would be doing the same later, when he was alone. He raised them right. There were good boys and would do the Stark line proud. Winterfell would live on through them. All he could do now was rest. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Robert Baratheon

Ned’s ragged breaths grew weaker, as he lay in his arms. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. He was the one that was supposed to die in battle, not Ned. When Ned’s heart stopped beating, Robert stood up and looked around. The two boys were shattered, but still managing to keep it together. “Secure the camp. Make sure those fucking things don’t get in again.” Robert yelled at the stunned men standing around a fallen king. The soldiers snapped to attention and scattered. “We have to burn the body.” Robert said surprisingly quiet. 

“No!” Robb and Jon said in unison. 

“I can’t have him coming back. I couldn’t deal with it. We burn the body.” That was final. 

“I can make sure he does not rise again.” Mollen said, as she stared at Ned’s lifeless body. 

“Fine, just get him moved.” His voice sounded cold, but it hurt too much to see his friend and chosen brother dead on the ground. Robert hurried through the camp to his tent for some wine. As he downed his drink, he stared blankly at the map before him. Ned knew the land, the people, and the area. Ned was supposed to be here to lead this battle, and Ned was the one that was better suited to help the young boys learn to lead. 

The wine burned as it went down. Robert ripped the map and pieces off of the table, before throwing his glass. The tent was a mess, when Ned’s son came to see him. The boy’s eyes were red, but he carried himself well. “Boy!” He yelled at the squire, who followed him around. “Get the witch and the dragon spawn.” Robb tensed across from him. “Is Ned… secure?” 

Robb cleared his throat. “We put him in the ground. The cold will keep him, and Mollen said magic could not touch him.” 

Robert nodded. “You’re a king now. I know you’re hurting; I am too, but the men need to see your strength.” Robb just nodded. Jon entered with the witch. Robert watched the boy as he walked inside the tent. He didn’t look Targaryen; he was Ned all over. “We need to take the fight to them.” 

“We do not know where they are or their numbers.” 

“We have a dragon and what they want. We have to act fast. They won’t be ready for us.” 

“If we ride in unprepared, we could be killed.” Robb tried to argue. 

He was having none of it. Robb sounded so much like Ned it hurt. He took a deep breath and then another. “Girl” The witch looked at him but did not speak. It was like she barely acknowledged him. That pissed him off. “Can you still… feel the Queen.” He used the words she did earlier. 

“Yes” 

“Could you get us close to her?” Robert watched as she looked at the two boys. 

She and Jon seemed to be having a silent conversation. “I can get close, but I am not sure I can track her, if that is what you ask.” 

“Good enough for me, we ride at once.” 

“I think we should think this through more.” Robb spoke up immediately. The kid had backbone, but Robert didn’t need some pup questioning him. 

“I’ll give you until morning. I’ve been doing this a lot longer than you, boy.” Robert pushed his finger into Robb’s chest. 

To his credit, Robb did not back down. “I am aware of that, but we need some idea what were are up against. I would like more than a magic feeling before we attack.” 

His temper was starting to boil. “We do what I say.” 

“Robb is right; we need to be careful.” 

“Know your place bastard. You’re only here to make sure your witch is ready to go.” Robert watched as the witch grabbed Jon’s hand. “You want revenge for your father’s death, right?” Both boys hesitated but shook their head yes. “We get it tomorrow.” He didn’t want to ride rough shod over the boy king, but he had to act, for Ned. He didn’t expect green boys to understand this kind of warfare. It didn’t matter what they were fighting. They had to take their enemy by surprise and attack swiftly. Robert was going to crush the bitch queen’s face with his hammer, before he shoved a blade through her heart. 

Nobody slept much again. The camp was on edge with the earlier attack, the loss of a king, and traveling at first light. The witch was the first one on horseback, and a large group was still gathering supplies. Robert agreed that the men needed to spread out, so they had several groups riding out, as well as one large base camp staying behind. Robert waited for Robb to get his men ready, before ordering the witch to lead the way. She rode several paces ahead of them, tilting her head and weaving from side to side. They rode like that for a three days further into the north. 

Mollen dismounted and turned to face the men. “I do not understand. It is strongest here.” 

“I don’t see them.” He mocked. “We rest here, while the witch gets her feelings in order.” He didn’t really trust her, or like her, but she was the best guess they had when it came to magic. 

The men settled in for a quick camp of salted beef and wine. “I can feel her, but…” Mollen trailed off looking around. 

“It is morning, they could be hiding or asleep.” Jon spoke with the girl. Robert listened as the two spoke quietly to each other. Robert watched their surroundings. “Mollen, no.” Jon said to no avail. When he looked back at the girl, she was on her knees mumbling in Valyrian. He could pick out a few words she spoke, but never paid much attention to his lessons as a boy. 

He wanted to laugh at how the Snow boy doted over the girl. Jon was a love sick pup, if he’d ever seen one. Robert shook his head and closed his eyes. The sound of steel, being drawn from leather, snapped him to attention. The air shimmered all around them. Creatures started to take shape. They were surrounded by them, more than he’d ever seen. Robert readied his hammer and drew his sword. Still, nothing moved. “What did you do?” He asked quietly, when nothing moved.

Mollen stood and walked slowly towards them. “Darkness brings the cold, cold brings the dead.” 

“What the fuck are you going on about?” 

“Can they see us?” Robb asked unmoving. 

“I do not know?” Mollen looked just as lost as the rest of the men. 

“Enough talking, Kill them!” Robert shoved his sword in the nearest Walker, while smashing another with his hammer. 

“NO!” Mollen yelled, as the walker crumbled. 

The rest of the abominations began to move, slowly. The party was being separated by creatures. He made sure Robb was near him. The least he could do was keep his promise to Ned. Gendry was safe at the main camp, fixing armor. One of them was safe at least. His war hammer smashed anything that came near him. During his fight for cover, Robert spotted her. At least he believed it was the bitch that was responsible for Ned’s death. 

A frozen queen stood behind guards, spitting orders or spells; he did not need to know which. Robert stopped his battling retreat and charged. His hammer took one of the sentinels in the face, while the others blade slid beneath his ribs. Briefly he saw the Queen, who leaned towards him. “Ssshee can nottt beatt meee.” Her breath touched his face with a kiss of frost, before she disappeared into a cold mist. 

A sword pushed through the Walker that impaled him. Mollen stood before him; she helped him to the trees. He had to kneel on the ground. “How bad is it?” He could feel her hot hands inside the wound. 

“It sliced the gut. It will be a long slow death, Your Grace.” 

Robert laughed through the pain. “Now you call me by my title.” 

Mollen smiled slightly. “I understand now. You are a king of war, not peace.” 

He hoped, that was the legacy he would leave behind. “Gendry, I haven’t legitimized him. Bare witness witch… Mollen. I Robert Baratheon, have them add the damn tittles, name Gendry Waters, to from this day forward, be known as Gendry Baratheon King in the South. If Tommen is found, Gendry will rule until the boy comes of age.” He had to bite out the words. 

“Your Grace, I’m not sure I am the one to tell this.” 

“You are here.” 

“They will find us soon.” 

“Help me up.” He ordered. Mollen hesitated but complied. Robert wobbled on his feet. There were still men fighting and losing. “Take care of them.” Robert said, turning towards the battle. He lifted his hammer and charged once again. “For Ned!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm back. And I'm sorry, for my long break and coming back with this story. This chapter was brutal for me to write, but it had to be done. I don't like killing off characters, but this story could not go anywhere with the two patriarchs at the helm. I gave them both honorable deaths. This actually made me cry when I wrote it; that has never happened to me before. As far as my hiatus goes, well I have been editing my stories in my free time, which isn't much. I've done a lot of research on grammar. I have been working on my commas, they probably still aren't all where they are supposed to be. I would like to thank everybody for the overwhelming support. I'm really glad you guys talked me off of that ledge. To those that offered to beta for me, Thank you for the offers, but I'm taking this as an opportunity to become a better writer. It takes me longer to write new stuff now. I'm super self conscious about my grammar. I am going to finish this story first, while I edit DKoK. It's going to take awhile, I'm a little long winded. I'm thinking there is around 5-8 more chapters in this one. Again thank you for all the love and support. I will try my hardest to get things done quickly, and get more chapters up.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok two chapters up. You may need to check out chapter 23. I'm not sure how it works when i re-posted that chapter.

Chapter 24- Gendry Waters

After the first attack, the men pulled the tents closer to the water. The Queenstower was at their backs. Some of the men said it was safer, but he knew it wouldn’t matter once the White Walkers came in full force. Gendry worked his days away in the makeshift forge. He heard the grumbling men, complaining about the cold, or food, or even the orders they were given. 

Gendry watched the men, when he wasn’t working. Everyday, he watched a small squire walk to the edge of camp and climb a tree. Always, the kid watched the northern horizon. The same kid frequently visited Ned Stark’s temporary grave. That in itself wasn’t strange; many men visited the site to show respect. He always noticed when the kid was there. 

Men slowly started to trickle into the camp, each of them mumbling about an attack and dead kings. The kid jumped down and went out to meet the men, only to return to the tree. It had only been a week or so since Robert left with Robb and Jon. He knew that the boy wasn’t a lookout. They had those already spread around the camp. 

Gendry grabbed some bread and salted pork. It was obvious the kid was waiting on family to return. “You hungry?” He asked when he reached the bottom of the tree. There was no answer. Gendry looked up into the branches. “Kid, Are you hungry?” 

“No, go away.” 

It couldn’t be. She wouldn’t do something that stupid. “Arya?” 

“No!” The kid said quickly, too quickly. 

“Get your arse down here.” He said through clenched teeth. 

“No!” 

“I’m getting Jory.” This was very bad. 

He turned to go get the man in charge. Arya jumped down and landed behind him. Gendry turned, grabbed her arm, and drug her across camp to Jon’s tent, not stopping until they were inside. Arya rubbed her arm where he grabbed her. 

Gendry started pacing the room, trying to figure out what to do. “What are you doing here?” He was trying to keep his voice calm. 

“It’s my home too; I should be able to fight.” Arya crossed her arms over her chest, which strained her breast against her tunic. How had he missed that earlier? He jerked his gaze up. 

“What did you do to your hair?” Her once long hair was now roughly chopped just below her jaw. The messy cut couldn’t hide her beauty; neither could the dirt smeared on her face. He didn’t give her time to answer the first question. “Gods Arya, your mother is probably worried sick. How did you even get here?” 

“I hopped on the wagon with the tents.” 

“Arya if the men find out you’re a woman… How could you be so stupid?” 

“I’m not stupid.” Arya almost shouted at him. “I know how to fight.” 

“Your brothers are going to be furious.” 

For the first time, Arya’s stubborn façade started to crack. “You can’t tell them.” 

“I have to, Arya.” This wasn’t something he could keep quiet.

Arya moved closer and placed her hand on his arm. “Please don’t tell them. I have to do this Gendry.” She was looking up at him through her eyelashes. For someone who didn’t want to be a lady, she sure knew how to play one. He was helpless under her gaze. 

“Arya, what if something happens to you?”

“They killed my father. I have to make them pay.” There was a certainness in her voice that wouldn’t allow argument. 

“I won’t lie. If they find out…” 

“They won’t. I’m Arry the orphan boy now.” Arya smiled like she was the cleverest thing in the world. 

She probably was. “Arry” He tested the name. For some reason it suited her. “I won’t tell them, but you have to stay close to me.” 

“I do not need your protection.” 

“I don’t care. You stick close or Jon and Robb will find out.” The glare was back on Arya’s face. She didn’t like being threatened. He had to know she was safe though. “I have to get back to work.” Arya maneuvered around him and out of the tent without another word. He watched for a few moments as Arya gathered wood for the cook fire. He wasn’t sure if she was going to listen to him and stay close. Part of him was furious with her for being here, but he wasn’t surprised. It was exactly what Arya would do. 

There were a few minor repairs waiting for him, back at the forge. He kept himself somewhat busy. As the day progressed, he found himself looking for Arya. She would disappear from time to time but would always pop up later. None of the other men took a second look at Arry, except for him. 

The snow started to pick up, as he was shutting down the forge for the night. He never thought it could snow so much in one place. It was almost knee deep on the level, and the drifts would cover a tent, if they weren’t careful. 

It occurred to him that he didn’t know where Arya was staying. His tent was near the center of camp, close to Robb’s and Jon’s. It was the safest place to be, at least as safe as one could be in the middle of a walking dead, war. The men were settling in for the night, what they thought was night. The endless snow clouds blocked out the sunlight, making it hard to tell. 

They slept when the day couldn’t get any darker. Gendry shut up his work space and walked to his small tent. He had to clear the snow off the top of his tent before turning in. He pulled his tunic over his head to scrub the days work away. The air was cold, and the water in the wash bucked was frigid. Despite the cold, it felt good to scrub the grime away. 

His tent wasn’t large by any means, so he heard a slight shuffle of boot on ground. He turned quickly and stumbled backwards into the small table. “Gods Arry, why didn’t you say something?” 

Arya sat on his pallet, glancing up at him and back at his chest. It finally occurred to him that he wasn’t wearing his tunic. “You told me to stay close.” He pulled his tunic on once again. 

“Not this close. If they catch you…” 

“They don’t care what I do, as long as my work is done. I’m Arry remember.” 

“Why are you in my tent?” 

Arya ignored that question. “It’s been too long. They should be back by now.” 

When he took another look at her, he noticed the worry in her eyes. “They will come back.” 

“The men said there was another attack.” 

“On which group? There was more than one that left.” 

“They shouldn’t have left.” She was angry again. 

“Where are you sleeping?” 

Arya watched him for a few moments. “Under a wagon.” 

“What!” He couldn’t believe that a princess was staying under a wagon during a snow storm. “You’ll freeze.” 

“I haven’t yet.” 

Sometimes talking to Arya was like tempering difficult steel. He took a deep breath. “You’ll stay here from now on.” 

“Where will you stay?” 

“Where is your wagon?” 

“You can’t!” 

“You can’t sleep outside.” Their argument was getting louder and louder. 

“The men will ask questions if you give up your cot for an orphan boy.” She was right. He hated when she was right, but it brought that smug smile, that he loved, on her face. 

“Fine, I’ll sleep on the ground.” Arya was about to speak. “No arguments.” Arya glared at him before turned her back to him on the cot to settle in. Gendry grabbed one of the furs and lay on the cold, hard ground. It was impossible to get comfortable, and the fur wasn’t nearly enough. He curled into himself in search of warmth. 

“Just get up here!” Arya’s voice broke the quiet of the night. 

“No” 

“Stupid bull!” Arya gritted out. “I cannot sleep with all your chattering.” He was trying to keep his jaw clamped tight, but failed. “I do not take up much space. There is room.” 

“Arry”

“Shut up and get up here before you freeze.” He glared at her in the darkness. Finally, the cold won out and he crawled into the pallet with warm furs and a northern princess. The layers of wool, cloth and furs were much warmer than the cold ground. There wasn’t an arms width between him and Arya. Her small frame left an indentation in the furs, which threatened to pull him closer. He stayed on his side, pressed against the side of the tent. Listening to her gentle breathing soothed him to sleep. 

He always woke early to ready the forge; it was ingrained in him to be up before the sun. When he woke, Arya was curled into his side, with her arm thrown around his stomach. He didn’t wake her. It was easier to watch her in the dim light of the small fire. She was peaceful when she slept. The crease between her eyes, she got when she was talking, was smoothed out. 

He loved her spirit and how fearless she was with her words; however, seeing her at rest made him fall a little harder. The noise outside made Arya stir but not wake up. He still hadn’t moved, even as the noise outside grew louder, he remained still. Men’s voices were heard all around them. Unbelievably, Arya just tucked herself tighter into him. He wanted to know what was going on but wasn’t going to wake her. The voices faded out of range, and no sounds of fighting followed. He relaxed into the furs and closed his eyes. He didn’t wrap himself around her like he wanted to. 

“Gendry” 

He opened his eyes in time to see Jon come through the flap in the tent. He jumped up and out of the pallet. “Jon, you’re back.” His voice didn’t sound right. Jon looked around the room, before settling on the small person in his bed. The room was silent as Jon stared at Arya. Gendry watched the recognition bloom on his face. 

Jon’s usually stoic expression turned to pure anger. “What did you do?” 

“Jon… wait…” He didn’t get to explain. Jon lunged at him, knocking both of them to the ground. He tried to roll away, but Jon went with him, rolling them outside into the cold snow. One of Jon’s punches landed square on his jaw. He didn’t want to fight with Jon because of a misunderstanding, but his temper got the best of him. They continued trading punches, rolling around in the snowy mess of ground. There were shouts all around them to stop, but Jon wouldn’t let up. 

“Enough!” Robb yelled at them. Just as he sat up, a strong gust of wind pushed both him and Jon apart. Jon had to be restrained. He stood in front of an angry King in the North. “To my tent now! Jory take care of the body.” Robb ordered before he turned around. Robb expected them to follow him. When they reached the main tent, Robb stood between him and Jon. “What is this about?” Robb asked when Jon finally sat down. 

“It was a misunderstanding.” 

“You were in bed with her!” Jon stood again. 

“Nothing happened Your Grace.” His heart was pounding in his chest. They could kill him for this. 

“Mollen was with us?” Robb looked confused, and for good reason. Mollen was the only woman in camp right now. At least she was supposed to be. 

“Not Mollen, Arya.” 

Robb looked at both of them unsure. “Arya is here?” 

“In his tent, in his pallet.” Jon stepped closer to him. Robb pushed Jon back and sat down between them. 

“How long has she been here?” 

“I found out yesterday. I made her stay in my tent, so she wouldn’t freeze. She was sleeping under a fucking wagon.” He sounded desperate. They had to believe him. 

“Nothing happened?” Robb asked hopefully. Arya ran in with a guard on her heels. Robb stared at her as the guard grabbed her. “Leave.” Robb ordered the guard. Arya walked up to Jon and punched him, stunning everybody. “Arya what are you doing here?” 

“He is an idiot.” She punched Jon’s shoulder. “I just slept in his tent, and I’ll gut anybody who says otherwise.” 

Gendry was in awe at the fierce determination on her face. The room fell silent. Mollen was allowed to enter. The silence was still suffocating. He wanted to know what they were going to do with him. “Why are you here Arya?” Robb repeated again. 

“I came to fight.” 

“You should be safe within the walls of Winterfell.” Robb said. “Mother is probably beside herself.” 

“I can fight.” 

“You are going back and that’s final.” Robb said as he stood. “Not a word about the tent will be repeated. No one knows Arya is here. I’ll gather a group to send out, and they will bring you home.” 

He could see the anger in Arya’s eyes. “Your grace, Is it really safer to send your sister out with a small group, when our enemy surrounds us?” Mollen, who stood behind Jon, spoke quietly. 

“She needs to go home.” Jon finally spoke. 

“No!” Arya yelled. 

“This isn’t the training yard.” Jon wouldn’t look at him. 

“It is safer to keep her here than to make the journey to Winterfell.” Mollen said quietly. If anybody could change Jon’s mind right now it was Mollen. She was the only one he would look at. 

“Mollen is right Jon. I do not want her here either, but the smaller parties are attacked more frequently. At least here, we can watch her.” 

“I do not need protection!” He wished Arya could quit when she was ahead. She was close to getting what she wanted. 

“They killed Father and Robert. These things aren’t like fighting a man.” Jon wasn’t letting go. 

“Robert is dead?” 

“I am sorry Gendry.” Robb was trying to stay in control of the room. 

“Who is King now?” 

“You are.” Mollen gave him a soft smile. “At least, until Tommen is found.”

“Me?” He was in shock. “I’m just a bastard.” 

“Not anymore.” Jon grumbled. 

Arya smiled. “King Gendry thinks I should stay.” 

He wanted to scream at her to shut up. She was not helping him. Both Stark brothers looked at him. “Only if it is safer.” He finally answered. 

Jon stood and walked up to him, grabbing Arya by the arm. “King or not, touch my sister again and I’ll kill you.” Jon led Arya away. Mollen followed a few moments later, giving him an apologetic smile. He looked at Robb, who was reaching for a drink. King in the South, he could use a drink himself.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poorly edited, please forgive any mistakes. I wanted to get something posted. It's bee too long.

Chapter 25- Robb Stark

Camp was just short of organized chaos. Gendry was coming to terms with his new title. Some of the Southerners didn't want to follow his orders, but the Kingsguard, what was left of them, followed Robert's wishes. Arya chopped her hair off and stowed away in a food cart. Jon was certain that Gendry dishonored her. Arya was attached at the hip with Mollen, which was probably the safest and most dangerous place to be.

Robb missed his sweet wife and longed to speak with his father. That was the hardest adjustment. He couldn't ask for advice or guidance now that Ned Stark was dead. His father wasn't there to double check his work anymore. Every decision he made he second guessed, even if he didn't let anyone else know.

Lord Umber saw him as a green boy, which wasn't making things easier. Robb stared at the large map in the center of his tent. Taking a deep breath, he memorized the pieces one by one once again. No one knew exactly where the Others were and taking off in search of them was folly. Robert made that mistake and it cost him his life.

"Bring me Mollen." He ordered the southern squire, standing just inside his tent. The boy showed a flash of fear but turned to carry out his orders. This was the first time he sought out her counsel. They were in over their heads, all of them. His father always listened to what everyone had to say; he would too. Mollen ducked into his tent and stood as far away from his as possible. "Please join me."

Mollen slowly walked up to the table where he was sitting. "Your Grace, How may I help?"

"End this war." Robb watched the corner of her mouth turn up briefly.

"If only I could." She sat across from him. She was pretty in an exotic kind of way. He could see why Jon was attracted to her.

Robb ran his hand through his hair. "Can you… feel anything?" He still felt a bit ridiculous asking that.

Mollen sighed, leaning forward to place her head in her hands. "Robb… I do not know what I feel. This is the most magic I have done. My mind is, not right."

Robb poured a cup of wine. "Can we win this?" He asked more to himself.

"Yes, we must." Robb nodded at her assurance.

"I would like you to join Jory on a perimeter run, maybe you can sense something."

Mollen cocked her head slightly. "Who is Jory?" For a few moments, speech failed him. She knew Jory. He sent her out with him before.

"Mollen, you know Jory."

A look, he couldn't place, passed over her face. "Of course, I need sleep is all." Mollen quickly stood and went to leave, without being dismissed.

"Mollen?" She turned towards him. "How did you know what you did for your people was right?"

Mollen looked lost in the past for a brief moment. "As long as you believe, that what you do is best for them; then it can only be right. Your people need your strength, and you are a strong leader Robb." He let her words sink in; they reminded him of the same words his father told him once. Just hearing that someone believed in him helped more that he thought it could.

Mollen left him to his thoughts. It was easier to ask her something like that, than one of his men. They were all his men now, even his brother was expected to follow him. Robb wished for his father's or even his mother's counsel once again. He knew that this would be an easier war to fight if the enemy was men. The unknown was to uncertain. "Your Grace, King Gendry is here to see you."

"Send him in."

Gendry ducked low through the flap in the tent. He really was a large man for his age. "How goes the South?"

"Most want to pull out and go home." Something similar to panic started to swell inside of him. He knew that it was a possibility. They needed those men.

"When do you leave?"

"We don't. Our fathers started this; we will finish it." At least the South's new King had backbone.

"That is good news. How are your new quarters?"

Gendry shifted uncomfortably. "My old ones were fine."

"You are a King now; the men need to see that."

"Only until we find Tommen."

Robb laughed loudly. "Do you hate the crown that much?"

"Yes" Gendry didn't hesitate. "It wasn't meant for me."

"The men have seen you fight; they will follow a strong leader." He was surprised by Robert's decision, but Gendry was a fierce fighter and a silent leader. He was certain that most of the Southern army would fight with Gendry through the Seven Hells and back. He hoped his men would do the same. "Is Arya staying put?"

"I don't know. I haven't seen her since you returned." Jon would be happy about that.

"Jon?" Gendry shook his head.

"I didn't think his mood could get any darker, until then. Nothing happened." Gendry repeated once again.

"I believe you."

"You do?" Gendry sounded relieved.

"Aye, if you had, Arya would have said so and demanded us to do something about it." They both shared an awkward laugh. "You are a King now. The North and South could be joined. Sansa would make a beautiful Queen." He wanted to know how much Gendry truly cared about his baby sister. Most men would jump at the chance to wed Sansa.

"No, I mean I am sure she would be lovely, but I do not believe I could choose her over Arya."

"Arya could be Queen, a terrifying one."

"I wouldn't drag her into something she would hate." It was more than obvious now that Gendry was more than a little fond of Arya. All the little glances and small smiles were there from the beginning. "She would hate every day of it, being told what to do and where to go. Holding her tongue for diplomacy, which I doubt she could do for long. That is not Arya. If I am stuck with this crown, I could not chain her to it with me."

"No, Arya is no Queen. You would give her up? You obviously care about her."

"I would if it means she would have a chance at happiness." Gendry slouched into his chair. "Jon still doesn't believe me."

"He does, or you would be dead. I believe he is mostly angry at Arya, but he would never direct his anger towards her." A brief silence settled in.

"I sent a small party South to relay news about Robert."

Robb nodded. "Mollen left with Jory; hopefully she will find something that will help us."

"I hate relying on her magic." Gendry commented.

"Aye, as do I. I do not know what else to rely on. It is not like you or I can do magic. Listen to me, I sound like Rickon wishing for magic wizards."

"I never thought I'd see the day dragons flew again."

Robb laughed. Gendry had a point. "Now, my brother rides one."

"Maybe wishing for a wizard isn't so foolish." They both shared a good laugh, before going over the rest of the day's events. Their supplies were dwindling. It was getting harder and harder to send out hunting parties for food. The groups were attacked frequently, and the game was sparse. They planned scouting parties and defenses until they couldn't think straight. A boy brought their meal. They were halfway through when they heard the men shouting outside.

They both hurried outside to see Jory's group returning with extra riders. There was a tall rider behind Jory. A small bundle of furs rode in front of Mollen, and a golden headed Lannister rode slumped across the pack horse.

"Your Grace, we need a maester." Jory answered as soon as he neared.

"Gendry!" A boy appeared beneath the bundle of furs and ran towards Gendry, after sliding off of the horse. Prince Tommen threw his arms around Gendry and hugged him tight.

"Where did you find them?"

"Wandering in the woods" The maester was looking at the Kingslayer's hand, which appeared to be cut clean in two. The tall one behind Jory was in fact a woman. The largest woman he had ever seen, including the Bear Island women.

"Mollen see if the maester needs help."

"We should get Tommen inside." Gendry lead Tommen inside, while the woman seemed reluctant to follow. Once she was settled inside he asked her to explain what happened.

"I rode North with Lord Renly's army. We reached Moat Cailin, but couldn't pass. Someone claiming to be a Targaryen Queen wouldn't allow it. Renly chose to attack. The battle did not last long. Two dragons burned our camp and scattered what was left of our men."

"Renly?" Gendry asked. The woman, whose name was Brienne, stared several moments at Gendry.

"Killed by dragon fire, before the black beast at him." The woman's voice cracked, but her face did not.

"Where did you run into the Kingslayer?" Robb asked after he let her compose herself.

"His name is Jamie." The tone of her voice brought no argument. "We had to retreat. I managed to get to the neck and stumble through it. I ran into the Jamie and the little prince there."

"They attacked and killed mother and Joffrey." Tommen shivered as he spoke. "Where is father?"

Gendry wrapped his arm around the young prince. "I'm sorry Tommen, father is dead. You are King now." Tommen failed to choke back his tears.

"I don't want to be King. I want mother and father."

Robb's heart broke for his good brother. The boy had lost so much and was still so young. "He isn't King until he comes of age Gendry."

"He's Robert's trueborn son."

He didn't want to have this conversation now, but there would be no better time. "He is a boy, and we are at war. The men need you now." Gendry gritted his teeth, but knew he spoke the truth. "Lady Tarth, there is a large tent in the center of camp you can sleep in. Tommen will be as safe as he can be there." The tall woman slowly left with a look back at Gendry. Tommen followed her out after giving his half brother another hug.

"More and more women coming to camp." Jory remarked quietly.

"Where's Robert?!" Jamie's voice preceded his entry into the tent.

"He's dead." Robb said steadily.

"Let me guess. The great fool rode into victory."

"That's my father and the former King you speak of Kingslayer, watch your tongue." Gendry stood with his body full of tension.

"Easy bastard." Jamie's hand was seeping blood. Mollen stepped in behind Jamie.

"I thought the Maester was taking care of your hand."

"The bloody fool wants to cut it off. If we're to win this war, you'll need my sword hand."

"When it rots, you will be no use to anyone." Mollen spoke in her quiet manner. "He knocked the Maester out."

"Does the hand need to be removed?" He directed the question to Mollen, stopping any further bickering.

"Most likely, maybe not."

"Can you fix it witch?" Jamie asked.

"Will you let me look at it?" Jamie pushed his hand forward for her. There was a huge gash that ran from palm to his fingertips. The flesh looked rotten and the smell was horrid. Mollen turned the hand carefully studying the wound.

Robb's curiosity got the best of him. "How did it happen?" Jamie gave him a look as if he wasn't going to answer.

"The wights attacked our camp on our way South. I caught a blade meant for my sister."

"I am sorry for your loss." Robb didn't care for the Queen but it was Myrcella's mother.

Jamie scoffed. "For all the good it did. Cersei poisoned herself and Joffrey. When it got bad, she didn't think I could get them out after my hand was damaged." Before he could ask Jamie to elaborate, Mollen grabbed Jamie's hand, making him scream.

The smell of burnt flesh filled the room along with Jamie's curses. The Kingslayer shoved Mollen across the room. Mollen hit the ground, and a wall of flames bloomed around her. If the fire spread it could take out part of the camp. The men were shouting and running for buckets, while the flames grew stronger.

Jon came from nowhere and was at his side. "What's happening?" Robb asked Jon.

"She's used to much, she can't control it like she could." Jon wasn't telling him something. His brother shed his furs.

"Can you make her stop?"

Jon stepped into the wall of flames, before Robb could stop him. Jamie held his burn hand in his lap. Every bit of flesh was burned together in a mesh of blood and char. As fast as it begun, the flames died. Jon knelt next to Mollen holding her up and whispering in her ear. Tears were streaming down her face. "What in the hells woman?!" Jamie exclaimed through clenched teeth.

"I am sorry. It had to be done or the hand would rot." Mollen stood and ran out.

Robb turned his attention to his brother, staring in disbelief. "You really are Targaryen. The flames didn't touch your skin."

Jon was still staring where Mollen was moments before. "She showed me that. No more magic Robb. Do not ask her."

"I cannot promise that Jon. We are at war."

"You do not know what it cost her. She is done." Jon grabbed his furs and left.

"Cost her? She burns my hand and it costs her?" Jamie complained.

"Burns can heal, rot does not. Jory get Lannister a place to sleep tonight. Tommen will be staying near the women." Jamie started to protest but he cut him off. "It is the safest part of camp."

Finally the men left him to his thoughts in peace. The crown wasn't on his head for long, but already it felt like it was crushing him. Robb sat down heavily for what felt like the first time that day. "Hey" Theon walked in uninvited but not unwelcome. "Exciting day?"

"Slightly, what is going on around camp?" Theon was good at gathering information from the men.

"Word is the witch took the Kingslayer's hand, and Gendry took the throne from Tommen." Robb laughed humorlessly. The camp always had the best stories. "The witch I could believe, but Gendry doesn't have it in him. Theon poured a cup of wine for Robb and himself.

"Neither are true. Arya?"

"A right little she-wolf that one. She stays put for the most part. A bit attached to the witch though."

"I need to find a safe way to get her home."

"You need to find some camp followers or the men will desert."

"The men or you?"

Theon smirked. "It has been awhile. You think Jon would give me a go with his girl?"

"You try and she'll burn you alive, if you are lucky." Theon laughed. He needed his friend to take his mind off of this place. Theon told him some new jokes as they lounged in his tent. Once again there was a commotion outside. Robb groaned, getting up. "What now?" He complained as he joined the men outside, who were all looking up.

"What is it?" Theon asked at his side.

"Dragons" Robb answered as he stared at two large silhouettes high in the sky.


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26 - Jon Snow

Jon watched as Gendry ducked into Robb’s tent once again. All they did was talk anymore. The Others were almost as rare as the sunshine, and he hadn’t seen the sun in several moon cycles. Still, Robb and Gendry talked daily. Jon scoffed to himself at the thought. 

Robb let Gendry get away with what he did. Arya was in the man’s tent, sleeping with him! He had to tell himself over and over that was all they did, or risk murdering his supposed friend. The men in camp blamed him for the fight. He heard whispers about the witch messing with his head, or that the dragon’s madness was taking over. He couldn’t even tell his side of the story without revealing Arya. It was beyond him that none of the men noticed her. She was Arya plain as day. Her hair may be shorter and she didn’t dress like a lady, but she still looked like his little sister. 

Jon shrank into his coat as the snow picked up; he walked to the small clearing that his dragon called home. It was restless. Jon tried to connect briefly with the dragon but was pushed out. It was different with Ghost. He could take over Ghost’s thoughts and actions. The dragon did as it wished and took his direction into consideration. “They are out there.” He heard Mollen’s voice in the branches above him. The entire army was speaking about the other dragons. 

“You spend more time in the air than it does.” He jested with her, after locating her in the branches. She was always in the trees watching the horizon. From what she told him of her home, there were trees everywhere, and Mollen and her brother used to climb them all the time. 

“The world looks better from above, but I guess you would know that better than most.” It was truly an unbelievable feeling to leave the ground and soar above the trees and people. Unfortunately, that feeling was short lived. During the attack that killed his father, Jon risked his life to climb on the back of his dragon. The wights were overwhelming their outer perimeter. Dragon fire made quick work of the walking dead, and the lines held. Their King, his father, was lost. The only person to care enough to keep him was dead. 

Jon pushed his grief down. “Aye, you should come with me.” 

Mollen quickly descended the tree to stand before him. “No Jon, dragons are meant for one.” 

It irritated him when she used that tone, like she was speaking to a child. “The ones in the past…” 

“Were forced. You can make a dragon bend to your will with magic, but only one can belong to it.” 

“And you know this how? They have been gone for over 300 years.” 

Mollen smiled at him. “My blood knows the truth Jon Snow.” When she used his last name like that, she was teasing him. She was doing that more now, mostly when she was trying to hide something she forgot. 

“How are you?” 

“I am still here Jon.” He knew she felt guilty that his father died saving her. Of course, he couldn’t blame her. Ned saved her because it was what he thought was best for the North. His father was honorable to the end. Her guilt wasn’t what worried him. She was losing herself at an alarming pace. She wouldn’t acknowledge the slips, but he noticed. First it was names that she should know from Winterfell. Then it was his language. Mollen would be speaking to him and not be able to find a word he knew she used before. Once, she even forgot Ghost’s name. When he asked about her home, she would speak for awhile, then go silent in thought. It hurt to see. She was giving up herself for a war that wasn’t hers. “You need to name him.” Mollen changed the subject once again. 

“I think I will call him dragon.” 

Mollen’s look was far from amused. “Jon” 

“It is a dragon; it does not need a name.” Mollen looked at the dragon one last time, before turning towards the main camp. He caught up to her quickly. The men only glanced at them now. 

Mollen ducked in her tent and held the flap open for him. The tall, woman knight stood. “My Lord” 

“I am no lord, Lady Brienne.” 

“And she is no Lady.” The Kingslayer walked in uninvited. “Are you wench?” 

“Why are you here?” Brienne’s voice took on a different tone. He wasn’t certain what it was. 

“The witch needs to look at my hand.” Jamie sat down, also uninvited. 

“There is a maester for that.” He eyed the Kingslayer. He had never been fond of Lannisters, even if he didn’t know very many of them. “Her name is Mollen.” 

“Don’t bother, he has a hard time with names.” Brienne sat across from the Kingslayer. 

“The maester is a lackwit, and she is the one that burned my hand.” Mollen ducked around him and knelt in front of Jamie. She carefully examined the wound. When she wouldn’t speak, Jamie grew impatient. “Will I be able to use my sword again?” 

Mollen stood. “Yes, when it heals.” 

“What of the war? Can’t you hex it or something?” Mollen rolled her eyes, making Jon smile. Arya was rubbing off on her. 

“Learn to use your left.” Mollen dressed the wound once again. 

“Do you know how long it will take me to train my left?” Jamie complained. 

“Yes” Mollen finished up and laid on her bed, completely ignoring her patient. He almost joined her, but an irritated Jory drug Arya inside the tent. 

“Stay here.” Jory let go of her arm. Arya glared at him. “Jon, Robb wants to speak with you.” Jory left as quickly as he came. He needed to have a talk with Arya. She didn’t need to be causing the man any unnecessary stress. 

But first, he had to see the King. “Excuse me ladies.” He ducked outside into the grey gloom. Robb and Gendry were waiting for him. He greeted Robb and acknowledged Gendry, reluctantly. “You wanted to see me?”

“Aye” Robb spoke. He was grateful for that. “Our northern boarder has spotted the dragons on the horizon. We think it would be best if you… flew out and looked around.” 

They were actually asking him to do that. “Robb, I do not know if I can direct it like that.” 

“During the battle you were fine.” He still had no idea how he managed the dragon in battle. 

“That time.” 

“I am sorry Jon but we need more about the dragons. I know you can do this.” Robb concluded, using his king voice. His brother completely believed in him. 

“We also need to know about anything else you might find out there.” Gendry added quietly. 

“Of course, your grace.” Jon turned and left. It wasn’t as if he could actually disobey him outright anyway. Following orders, that was what his life was going to be. In a way it was what he wanted, just not his bothers. 

“Jon!” Gendry was hurrying towards him. He couldn’t ignore a King in front of his men, even a bastard king. 

“Your Grace” Jon said mockingly. 

“We need to talk.” Gendry stopped short of where he was standing. Jon looked around at the men watching them. He opened his tent for the King in the South. He had to remember to not hit him. Gendry stepped in first and started pacing. Jon took a deep breath, before following him in. “Jon, I know you are mad at me, but it has to wait.” 

“Excuse me?” Gendry had some nerve. 

“I’m in over my head Jon. I need my friend back.” 

“Your friend?” He kept his voice tight with controlled rage. “You sleep with my sister and have the gall to call me your friend.” 

Gendry’s jaw tightened. “I won’t waste my breath explaining it Jon. You won’t listen, but I need… someone. At least until the war is over.” 

He did miss having a friend, but how was he supposed to overlook what Gendry did? “When the war is over?” 

“If we live, you can hate me, fight me, or try to kill me, but not right now.” 

Jon thought for several moments. “King’s do not have bastard friends.” 

“Bastards aren’t supposed to be kings, we’ll make our own rules.” 

Jon shoved a few things into a bag. “Make sure my family is safe while I am gone.”

“I will” 

Jon grabbed the chain he picked up earlier. He needed something to hold onto, while on the dragons back. “Gendry”

“Yes?” 

He couldn’t believe he was asking this. “Why Arya?” There were plenty of women around Winterfell, even a bastard could find a woman. None of them even turned Gendry’s head. 

Gendry took a deep breath. “She’s different, special…” Gendry waited a few moments, most likely to see if he was going to get angry. “When I’m around her, I’m somebody.” 

Damn him. He couldn’t completely hate the guy. He understood that feeling. Mollen made him feel like he was more than just a bastard. “Keep your blade sharp.” Jon stuck out his hand for Gendry to shake. He was still upset, but not near as much as he was moments ago. He would finish sorting out his feelings later. 

Mollen was waiting for him at the edge of camp. He didn’t ask how she knew what was going on. She fell silently in step with him. They walked in silence towards the dragon. As expected, Mollen stopped at the edge of the clearing. “Jon…” He waited for her to continue, but she didn’t. He set his supplies down and turned to face her. 

“Can you keep Arya out of trouble for me?” 

Mollen laughed. “I think your task is easier.” He knew Mollen loved Arya. She basically said as much when she spoke of her. Jon laughed as well. Mollen lunged forward and wrapped her arms around him. This was the first time they would truly be separated since he was locked outside of Winterfell. Jon tightened his grip around her and took in her scent. “Come back Jon.” He heard her muffled words against his chest. 

Gently, he pushed her back. Tears were threatening to fall. It was always hard to know what Mollen was feeling or thinking. He knew she cared about him now. His hands slowly slid up her covered shoulders and neck, stopping when they were cupping her face. The silver in her eyes seemed to burn brighter as he leaned towards her. He only meant it to be a quick kiss goodbye, but Mollen pulled him to her, when he tried to pull away. He did not need permission to kiss her in earnest. Her actions spoke for her. 

All the cold nights Mollen slept close to him, his body ached for her. Until that moment, Mollen kept some distance between them. His lips softly pushed against hers, and their bodies drew impossibly closer. He could’ve stayed with her for an eternity. His dragon had a different idea. Its shriek made them jump apart. Mollen smiled shyly at him, before picking up his chain. “Remember the words I taught you.” Mollen handed him his things. 

“I will.” There was so much he wanted to say to her, but he didn’t know how to say it. 

It took him less time than he expected to put the chain around the dragon’s neck. It was crude, but it gave him something to cling to during flight. Before he knew it, he was on the back of a very restless dragon. With a last look at Mollen, who was in her trees once again, he and the dragon launched into the sky. 

He watched the ground disappear beneath him. His hair lashed against his face and the light snow clung to his clothes. The dragon didn’t need direction; it seemed to know exactly where he wanted to go. Flying was like nothing in the world he ever experienced. Flying was something no one else in his time could claim. 

The camp faded quickly behind him. It took the better part of the day to get where the dragons where last spotted. He circled around the area, looking around to see what he could spot. The dragon shifted beneath him, and he had to hold tight to keep from falling off. Jon wasn’t sure if the creature was doing as he wished or if it was a coincidence. There were a few wights beneath him, but nothing else to note. 

The dragon shifted quickly. The movement almost made him loose his seat. His mind screamed at the beast to pull up, but they dove quickly towards the ground. Branches broke around them as they both crashed into the ground. The landing was far from smooth. Jon said a few words in Valyrian trying to get back in the sky. “No, up!” The dragon shook violently, sending him to the ground. 

He really needed to name the damn thing, so he could curse it properly. At least it didn’t fly away. That was a risk he didn’t have to worry about with a horse. When he tried to move closer, his dragon moved away. Jon took a steadying breath. He knew this was a bad idea. After several more attempts to mount up, he gave up and sat down on a rock. They were at a stand off. Grabbing a snack, he settled in against a tree, mumbling to himself. “This would have taken less time on a horse, stupid overgrown lizard.” The dragon paced awkwardly and snapped at the sky. 

Jon stood to try and climb on once again. The dragon let him climb up this time, but it wouldn’t fly. It shrieked into the sky above them, sending a blast of heat around him. The rumbling underneath him was starting to make him nervous. The branches around him started cracking and a giant, black, dragon crashed down next to them. The dragons began to circle each other, while snapping and screeching. The black dragon was larger than his. The only difference in appearance, other than color and size, was the crowned horns on top of his. 

He was clinging to the chain, trying not to fall, as sharp black teeth snapped around him. He had to get away from there. He yelled a command over the noise, and heard a shout from the other dragon. It never occurred to him there could be another rider. Jon risked looking around the safety of his dragon’s neck. 

A flash of silver hair whipped around the neck of the black giant. He forcefully pushed into his dragon’s mind and ordered it to stop. To his surprise, the dragon listened. After several quiet moments, Jon decided to slide off his dragon, staying close in case he needed to climb back on. “Who are you?” He heard a woman’s voice. 

“I am Jon Snow. Who are you?” He heard her say a few things in Valyrian, but he only caught a few words to her dragon. 

A small but beautiful woman slid down the black scales. “I am Daenerys Targaryen, Mother of Dragons. You stole one of my dragons.” She accused him. 

“I did not steal anything. It found me.” 

“Why would my dragon find you?” 

“Why does a dragon do anything?” 

Daenerys stepped a little closer to him, but not far from her dragon. “Who are you?” She asked again with a little more force. 

“I told you.” 

“The dragon fire should burn you.” 

It always came down to his parents. “I am the bastard son of Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen.” That was the first time he has said it out loud to someone. It didn’t sound right. Daenerys watched him carefully for a few moments, before grabbing a horn around her neck and blowing it. 

Moments later a shadow blocked out the dim light, and a green dragon joined the small group. A tall lanky man, with silver hair, quickly stepped down, joining Daenerys. The two could’ve been brother and sister, if one went by looks. “Please join us.” Daenerys asked. 

Jon slowly worked his way around the other dragons, putting his back to a tree. The man was carrying a sword. There was no doubt in his mind he could get away from the man, but the other dragons worried him. “Who is this Dany?” The man asked. 

“It seems, he is your half brother Aegon.” 

“Lies, I did not have a brother. He doesn’t even look Targaryen.” Aegon argued. 

Jon recognized the name, but it couldn’t be possible. “And you are supposed to be dead. Nothing is what it supposed to be apparently. Why are you so far north?” Jon questioned?

“I came for my throne.” Aegon answered. 

“Our throne.” Daenerys corrected. 

“It is in Kings Landing.” 

“The usurper was in the north. We went north.” 

“Where is your army?” He pushed for information. 

“We have dragons. Who needs an army?” Aegon answered smugly. 

“We came across a walking dead man.” Daenerys added. She seemed to be the more diplomatic of the two. “Some of the men we captured spoke of these Others. We needed to see for ourselves.” 

Aegon still had his hand on the hilt of his sword. “Before you start another war?” Jon asked, gripping his own sword. 

“They killed my family and took what is rightfully mine! We are here to take it back.” Daenerys raised her voice. 

“And have you seen what you need to see?” 

“No, we have not seen these… Others, only the dead men.” Aegon relaxed slightly. 

“You will not, at least during the day.” The only time we have seen them,” without magic, he wanted to add but didn’t. “If you want to see them, night is the best time.” 

“You have seen these creatures?” Aegon asked, suddenly curious. 

“I have killed them.” Jon watched as Daenerys and Aegon exchanged a look. 

“I would like to speak with the usurper.” Daenerys asked. 

He was not expecting that. “King Robert is dead. His son is king now, and so is my brother.”

“Cousin.” Aegon said with a smirk. 

“Robb is more a brother to me than you could ever be.” His temper flared and his tongue got the best of him.” 

“Enough of this.” Daenerys interjected. “Can we speak to them or not?” 

“We walk into the camp, no dragons.” 

“Can you guarantee our safety?” Daenerys asked. She was brave. 

“You have my word and guest rights.” 

“Let us go then.” Daenerys dismissed herself and walked to her dragon. He wasn’t sure how Robb or Gendry were going to feel about this, but they did want to know more about the dragons. If they could somehow convince the dragons to fight with them; it would be a brilliant move. 

Jon let Aegon leave next. He walked towards his dragon, which was still snapping at his larger, black brother. The things were constantly snapping and chirping at each other. Jon gently pushed his thoughts and the dragon kneeled before him. “How did you do that?” Daenerys asked, obviously curious. Apparently, she didn’t have the same ability he did. 

Jon looked down at her. “I asked him too.” From the look on her face that wasn’t a good enough explanation. “With my mind, I may be a bastard but I’m also a warg.” 

“Viserion never has listened like that before.” 

He caught the name. “Viserion” He tested the name. “I have been calling him dragon.” 

Daenerys laughed lightly. “That is the name I gave him. Mine is named Drogon, and Aegon rides Rhaegal.” Daenerys climbed up on her dragon easily. They had to wait on Aegon to mount Rhaegal. “Lead the way Jon Snow.” 

He asked Viserion one more time to fly. This time, his dragon soared into the air. Daenerys followed right behind him, with Aegon a little further behind. He took a deep breath and pointed them towards the camp. Jon couldn’t hear anything but the beat of wings s they flew. The land below them passed by. Jon looked over his shoulder to make sure they were still following. Aegon was still bringing up the rear. Daenerys was leaning around Drogon’s neck pointing in front of them. 

When he faced forward again, the horizon was nothing but smoke. Many scenarios flashed through his mind. He willed Viserion to move faster. It didn’t take long before he could see the flames, burning what was left of the surrounding trees. At his will, Viserion dove down closer. There were many tents smoldering. Jon circled the camp from above. Many of the supplies, tents and men were missing, but there was no movement below him. 

He circled again. There had to be some sign of where they went. Daenerys and Aegon still followed him. There was nothing but burnt remains of the camp. The Queenstower caught his sight. It was a long shot, but he had to try. Viserion knew his wishes before he could give them. He and the dragon started to circle the tower. There were a lot of trees surrounding it, but eventually he spotted the scattered tents. 

The camp was hastily thrown up in any available space amongst the trees. There wasn’t much room to land, so he crashed through the trees. A few men rushed in to see what the noise was, but quickly retreated after seeing three dragons. “Stay close.” He ordered before turning towards the scattered camp. Both Daenerys and Aegon followed closely behind him. They had to weave in and out of the tents. There was no order to the camp. Eventually, he spotted Robb’s tent, closest to the tower. 

Jon didn’t wait to be announced before entering. Aegon and Daenerys respectfully waited outside. Robb sat without a shirt, as a maester tended to a nasty gash across his chest. “Jon! You are back sooner than expected.” 

“I found the dragons. They are outside.” 

“You brought them here!”

“They want to speak with you.” Robb looked at him like he had lost his mind. “Targaryens are outside. Robb, what happened here?” 

Robb looked stunned. “Targaryens are with you?” 

“Aye, two. Each with a dragon. Is Arya?...” He couldn’t think of a way to finish his thought. 

“Arya fought better than most of the men. She even rode Nymeria. I’ll tell you what happened later. Now, I would like to meet these dragons.” Robb pulled a tunic over himself, after dismissing the maester. 

Jon opened the tent for Daenerys and Aegon to enter. “King Stark, Daenerys and Aegon Targaryen.” He needed to know what happened. He needed to know where Arya and Mollen were, and even if Gendry was well. Unfortunately in times of war, diplomacy and politics took precedence. 

“Lord Stark.” Aegon greeted. 

“King Stark.” Robb stood tall. 

“Usurper.” 

“Titles do not matter right now.” Daenerys interrupted before things could get heated. “I believe we have more important issues to discuss.” 

“Aye” Robb agreed as he stared Aegon down. Food was brought to Daenerys and Aegon, so they could take their guest rights. 

There was really no reason for him to be involved in the meeting, other than his relation to both parties. “Gendry should be here.” His voice broke the silent tent. 

“Aye, he should.” A squire disappeared, leaving them to the silent tension in the room. The actions, if any, could change the outcome of the entire war and maybe even Westeros itself.


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27- Mollen

The pain in her arm was nothing compared to the one in her heart. One of the old ones managed to grab her, before she killed it. The skin froze under its touch. Her magic slowed the burn but would not stop it; that was not her concern. Wounds were a part of her life, everyone’s life now. The spell took something from her. She promised herself that she wouldn’t do any major magic, but when the attack came, it had to be done. The spell was just a distraction and wasn’t even the worst she could do, but it was enough. Robb had time to move his men and most of the camp. The wall of fire bloomed around the camp as the wights came. She managed to block most of them out, but a few of the enemy came into the camp. It was also enough to lose a little more of herself.

Mollen stared out the crumbling ruins of the Queenstower. A black haired man with blue eyes was begging her to see a maester, whatever that was. The physical wounds would heal, what was now lost was gone for good. The snow was picking up again. It did after every attack. She watched as the men hurriedly put up shelters. If they didn’t find a way to end this soon, the old ones wouldn’t need to kill them, winter would. 

Mollen went over the list of people she knew, or used to know in her head. She was trying to figure out who or what she forgot this time. The more she thought the more she wanted to cry. Something or someone was missing, but she had no idea what or who. Hopefully, Jon could help her remember. 

He started talking with her at night about her friends and family and the places she had been. When she couldn’t remember something, Jon told her about her past. Just thinking, about those nights with Jon, made her smile. Jon was always patient. She would sit crossed legged on his cot across from him, as she told her stories. Jon never seemed to tire of them and would ask questions. It helped her remember, even when her magic made her forget. He was out riding a beautiful creature; he couldn’t help her now. 

“Mollen, please let the maester look at your arm.” 

“I am fine.” She finally spoke to the man; she knew she should know his name. He was getting frustrated. 

“Arya, talk to her. If she doesn’t see to that arm, it could get worse.” 

“What do you want me to do? She is more that capable of taking care of herself.” 

“Seven Hells Arya, just help me.” He sounded angry. 

Arya was Jon’s little sister and a good fighter. That she could remember. Jon told her many stories about when they were younger. 

“Mollen?” Arya turned to her. 

“Yes” 

“Could you let the maester look so Gendry will shut up?” Gendry, that was his name. He glared across the room at Arya. 

“It will heal well. I already put…” The word she was looking for was no longer there. She searched every corner of her mind and found nothing but Valyrian. 

Arya gave her a questioning look. “See, she is fine Gendry.” 

“I give up.” Gendry shook his head and walked towards the crumbling stairs. “If something happens to her, you get to explain it to Jon.” Gendry mumbled to himself as he descended the stairs. 

“He worries too much. I swear he was not more than 10 paces away, during the battle.” 

“He cares for you.” That much was obvious. 

“He’s stupid.” Mollen managed to smile again. Arya was always making her smile. She never knew what the girl was going to say or do next. “Jon would be really mad if something happened to you.” Arya tried to convince her to seek help, a little more convincingly this time. 

“I will go when the men are all taken care of. It is only a small wound.” 

“Good enough for me. I am going to check on Brienne. She took a nasty cut.” Arya smiled quickly before she left. The girl was made to fight. A warriors heart, is what they called it back home. They used to say the same thing about her. 

Mollen crawled higher into the crumbling rocks, until she found a ledge wide enough to sit cross legged on. The chilly wind chased away the worries about what she was losing. It was selfish to think that way. When she closed her eyes and let her mind relax, she could feel the earth calling her. It was a familiar feeling, but something changed. It was no longer a gentle pull. Her senses were screaming at her. Something was off. The delicate balance in nature was tipped. It had to be righted at all costs. 

Mollen heard shouts from below. She inched closer to the window. The men were watching the sky. Jon was back. She knew by the shouting and pointing men. It was either really good, or really bad that he returned so quickly. Every ounce of her wanted to run to him, to see what he discovered. She didn’t. Jon had a role to fill. He was a leader amongst the men, whether he wanted to be or not. When Jon had time, he would find her. 

On her perch, she watched the men below once again to pass the time. The golden lion paced outside the healer’s tent. Even injured, Jamie was responsible for getting the men to safety and coming back for her. She had to stay behind to keep the wall of fire burning. Jamie came back for her, after the camp moved. Brienne stepped out of the healer’s tent. Mollen watched as they exchanged words. She couldn’t hear what was said, but Jamie’s body language showed worry. A small group drew her attention. The men were ushering a small group of people through the tents. She immediately picked out Jon in the lead. 

The two people that followed him were unmistakable. Targaryens. The silver hair seemed to create its own light. She could imagine the purple in their eyes. The traits were more common than not among her people. As they grew closer , she noticed that one of the new comers was a woman. Uneasiness settled into the pit of her stomach. She wasn’t sure what or why, but something was about to change. 

The group disappeared from sight. Most likely they were in Robb’s tent. Mollen pulled her furs around her. It would be good for her, if she slept while the rest of the camp worked. Even with everything that was on her mind, Mollen fell asleep quickly. 

Images flicked in and out of her mind as she fought for control. Earth turned to ice as the fire burnt out. Wind moved snow until there was nothing but white. The silence screamed at her. There was nothing but death. The living simply stopped being and the cold ruled all. 

“Mollen” Her name whispered through the darkness. “Mollen” She jerked awake when she felt someone grab her arm. Her dirk pressed firmly into Jon’s neck. 

“Jon?” In her haze she still hadn’t removed the blade. 

“You were having a bad dream.” Jon stayed perfectly still against her blade. He didn’t even seem alarmed there was a blade pressing into his neck. 

“How long have I been sleeping?” She slowly lowered the dirk. 

“I believe it is almost morning.” 

“The dragons?” 

Jon watched her face for a few moments. “Still here.” 

“You found them.” 

“Aye, along with my aunt and half brother.” 

“Three?” She said to herself, getting down from her broken perch. “It can’t be.” 

“What are you talking about Mollen?” 

“A three headed dragon. Could it be?” She looked out at the clouded sky. 

“Mollen?” 

“The burning star.” Mollen started to pace and recite the stories of her past to herself. Jon grabbed her shoulders and stopped her from moving. 

“What are you talking about?” Jon asked again. 

Mollen finally looked up into Jon’s stark grey eyes. “Azor Azahi” 

“You are not making sense. What does that mean?” 

Mollen threw her arms around Jon, almost sending them both to the ground. “Hope” She couldn’t help the laugh that found her lips. Jon hugged her back uncertainly. “It means hope Jon.” 

Jon laughed at her excitement. “What hope?” She wasn’t sure how to explain. Jon was very understanding about her magic, but ancient prophecies? 

“Can I see the dragons?” Jon’s face was unreadable for a few moments, before he broke into a slight smile. 

“Of course, if you are willing to leave your tower.” 

“It is not my tower Jon.” Mollen caught the twitch of Jon’s lips. He was jesting with her again. Being perched high above everybody and everything was safe. From above, she could see what was coming and needed to be done. Jon grabbed her hand to lead her down the crumbling stairs, even though she didn’t need help. 

The camp was settling in to sleep for the day. A few guards greeted them on the way to the trees. Jon led her through the woods without speaking. Something was bothering him. “There they are.” Jon stopped near the edge of a large pile of trees. The dragons were nesting. “He has a name. It’s Viserion. The green one is Rhaegar and the black one is Drogon.” 

“Come with me.” Mollen asked. 

“Where?” 

Mollen didn’t look back, when she climbed a large tree. “Are you serious?” Jon shouted from below. “I am not climbing a tree.” 

Mollen stopped on her way up to a large branch and looked down. “Do you not know how?” 

“I know how.” 

“Then climb.” She heard Jon mumbled curses from below. 

“I am too old to be climbing trees.” Jon complained as he pulled himself up on a low hanging branch. 

“There is an age limit?” Mollen asked confused. 

Jon shook his head but pulled himself closer. When Jon reached her, he was breathing a little harder than usual. “Can you tell me why we couldn’t have this conversation on the ground?” 

“I feel it more up here.” 

“What?” She wanted to answer him, but couldn’t think of the words or way to explain her connection with nature. 

“The sun comes up.” She tried to find some words. 

“If you say so. No one has seen the sun in months.” Jon replied curtly. 

“Just because you don’t see it, does not mean it does not happen.” She wasn’t used to him being short with her. “Something bothers you?” 

“Besides this crazy war, or maybe dragons? No, those I can handle. Why do you keep doing spells?” Jon turned to her. She could see anger in his eyes. This was about her. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Robb told me what you did. You forget Gendry, Ghost, Robb, or the rest of the men. Do you even remember Sylys or Isa?” The last two names were not familiar. She could not answer him. “Damnit Mollen! What else are you going to lose?” He was very angry. 

She didn’t know how to react to an angry Jon, so she chose anger as well. “I was supposed to let them die!” The tree rocked beneath them. Jon slipped slightly. She had to control her temper. 

“No… Mollen you have to stop. I cannot let you lose yourself. Promise me you will not lose yourself.” Jon reached out and touched her shoulder lightly. That was a promise she couldn’t make. 

“Where is the witch?” A woman’s voice came through the trees. The sound of men followed. Jon crawled down first. By the time her feet touched the ground; two Targaryens were upon them along with Robb and Gendry. 

“Daenerys” Jon greeted. 

“Is that her?” The woman’s purple gaze locked on her. 

“I am Mollen.” There was a screech from behind and the ground shook beneath her. The men all took a few steps back. Mollen’s heart accelerated. She knew there was a dragon behind her. Words flooded through her mind. Every spell, that her ancestors ever used to control dragons, slammed into her thoughts and danced on the tip of her tongue. 

“Are you a witch?”

“That is what the Westerosi men call me.” 

“I will not have magic near. She must go.” Daenerys commanded. The dragon queen certainly sounded like a queen. 

“Daenerys, she has been helpful with our war.” Robb looked directly at Mollen when he spoke. The other men were looking around at each other. 

“Magic is a false hope that only brings pain. If you want me and my dragons, she dies.” 

“No” Jon spoke. Robb and Gendry started arguing with the male Targaryen. Their arguments flew around her. Some of them made sense, others did not. 

Mollen’s senses were hyper sensitive. “Dracarys.” Mollen picked the word out of the chaos. Words spilled from her mouth as the heat bloomed around her. Her body was burning, but from the inside out. She knew if she stopped the spell; she would die. She was Valyrian, not Targaryen. Dragon fire would kill her without the magic. The flames ebbed and died out, but the heat inside her did not. 

Dragons only obeyed their people. The dragon queen tired to kill her. Her ancestors were right. Royalty either wanted to own your magic or destroy it. Spells spilled out of her mouth. The dragons calmed around her and settled into a deep slumber. Her blood boiled and breath was ragged. The small group stared at her in awe, or possibly fear. A man with dark curly hair moved quickly towards her. A few quick words had him on his knees too. Mollen’s rage coursed through her. “What have you done to my dragons?” The Targaryen demanded, as she moved past her to lay a hand on the black dragon. 

“Mollen” The grey eyed man spoke again. Her mind calmed briefly, allowing him to stand. 

“Stop this.” The dragon queen demanded. 

“You command me? Who are you to command me? To try to kill me. I am Valeria. The same magic that runs through this ground, that runs through those dragons, flows through me. I will not be ordered by Targaryen filth the way my ancestors were.” 

Daenerys squared off to her. “Targaryen filth! You do not know what my family has been through, what I have gone through. I am the Mother of Dragons. I have freed slaves, conquered cities, and I have lost too much to magic.” 

“I know what you are. I know where you came from. Your kind put mine in chains, and forced us to control their dragons, because they could not. And you blame me for your folly with magic!” The Mother of Dragons took a step back. The male Targaryen had his sword drawn. 

“Mollen” The man was next to her now. No, Jon was next to her now. “Are they hurt?” He gently touched her bare arm. 

“Jon?” She looked around her, then down at herself. She was losing control. The Mollen from a few years ago would never lose her temper like that. “I would not hurt them. They sleep.” 

“I think we should take this else where.” Jon’s brother, the King spoke. She looked around at the strange group. Every one of them was looking at her with fear in their eyes. Jon’s hand remained on her arm. The magic calmed. This was what her people were afraid of. That her magic would end up controlling her. She knew she was loosing control, when her emotions led her. 

Mollen said another quick spell to release the dragons. Jon nodded to his brother, before gently leading her towards the camp. He did not speak. She did not know what to say. Jon sat her on a cot inside one of the many tents. When he kneeled in front of her, she flinched away. She couldn’t take the pitying look he was giving her. “Are you hurt?” Mollen shook her head. “I thought you were dead, when I heard that word.” 

“It may be better if I was.” 

“Do not ever say that.” Jon cupped her face, forcing her to look at him. 

Tears pooled in her eyes. “I lost control. I have lost too much.” 

“You are still Mollen.” 

“For how long?” She whispered as tears slipped down her cheeks. 

“I will not let you disappear.” More than anything, she wished that was true. Mollen leaned forward and pressed her lips to his. It was a quick kiss. Jon pulled her into a tight embrace, when they broke apart. She clung to him. Being close to Jon felt like an anchor. With Jon, she couldn’t descend into madness. He made everything clearer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if you think Dany is ooc but she has every reason to hate magic. This was intentionally choppy. I hope it was smooth enough to follow but jumpy enough to show Mollen's state of mind.


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, sorry it took so long. Hope you enjoy.

Chapter 28- Gendry Waters

Dragons, kings, queens, or war, he didn’t want any of it. He was stuck with a whole lot of everything he didn’t want. A decent bed, a hot fire, a hammer and some food were all he wanted in life. Well, that wasn’t entirely true anymore. 

He watched as Arya danced around a flustered Kingslayer. Jamie Lannister insisted on training with his left hand, even though he was injured. The man wasn’t strong enough to fight his lady companion, who was worrying endlessly over the Kingslayer. Arya volunteered to fight him. 

Gendry chuckled, as Arya managed to poke and slice the best knight in Westeros. He loved watching her fight. When Arya fought, she was completely free and open; the way she was meant to be. 

“Have you thought on it?” Robb asked, easing down next to him. The injuries to the King in the North’s side were not severe, but Robb was moving slower. 

“Some” He replied, still watching Arya fight. 

“The dragons will be back soon.” 

“You’ll all have my decision by then.” 

Robb nodded his head in acknowledgment. “I think she is better at war than I am.” Robb watched Arya slap Lannister on the wrist with the flat of her blade. 

Gendry ran the stone over an already sharp edge. “She’s better at most things.” 

“You know I would not ask you to consider this, if we were not losing this war.” 

Gendry sat the sword and his sharpening stone down, turning his head towards Robb. “I know; if the crown were truly mine, I would give it up in half a thought. The crown belongs to Tommen. If I have to fight for it, I will.” Robb fell silent, watching his sister. 

After the small incident with Mollen and her magic, Robb, himself, and the Targaryens returned to speak on an alliance. Daenerys and Aegon only wanted the Iron throne. Robb would keep the north, but he was supposed to step down. In exchange, the dragons and their army were on the frontline, fighting along side their combined armies. For the time being, Mollen was not brought up again in discussions. 

As far as he knew, none of the men knew what was being discussed in their war counsel. He knew, if he did step down, some of the men would call him a coward. Robert would roll over in his grave, if he bent the knee to a Targaryen. Not for the first time, he wondered why all of this was happening to him, a bastard boy from Flea Bottom. 

A horn sounded to his west. All of camp readied themselves for the upcoming attack. The smaller bands of wights would find a spot along their perimeter and attack. It happed so often it became part of the camp routine. By the time he and Robb made it to the attack, the men were already hauling the dead to be burned. “That should be the last of them for awhile; I believe it is almost morning.” Gendry parted from Robb and made his way across the camp. 

He helped the men with some of the day to day duties, before winding up back at his tent.  
Their days were reversed. Most slept during the day now, so they were alert for the night, when most of the attacks happened. He planned on crashing onto his cot to get away from his thoughts. Nothing ever went as planned. “What are you doing here?” 

Arya sat on his bed sharpening her blade. “Jamie is bugging Brienne…again.” 

“You shouldn’t be here.” It was what he said, but he was thrilled to see her. Arya ignored his words and continued messing with her blade. “Jon” 

“Jon is with Mollen.” Arya cut him off. 

Gendry turned his back to her. “You still shouldn’t be here.” 

“Stupid” Arya mumbled to herself as she sat her blade down. 

He knew she wasn’t leaving without a fight. Honestly he wasn’t even sure he wanted to fight her. Gendry shed his armor and washed his face. “Do you need something?” He finally asked her, sitting down at his writing table. 

“No” 

“Why are you here?” 

Arya shrugged. “It is quiet.” He let the silence grow between them. “I think something is wrong with Mollen.” Arya finally blurted out. She usually talked if he stayed quiet long enough. 

“What makes you say that?” 

“She forgot my name.” 

“I could talk with Jon.” 

“I already did. He said it was not my concern.” He should have known that she would talk to Jon first; she always went to Jon first. “She is my friend. How is that not my concern?” Arya complained angrily. 

He was starting to notice small differences in Mollen too. For one, she was speaking less and less of their language. “Jon will let us know if it becomes our concern.” 

“Maybe… Have you made up your mind?” Arya abruptly changed the subject. 

“What do you mean?” He questioned uncertainly. 

Arya scoffed. “Are you going to give up the crown?” He froze. Nobody was supposed to know about that. 

Gendry stood and walked quickly to his bed. “How do you know that?” He questioned. 

Arya smiled crookedly. “You and Robb are terrible at keeping secrets. Don’t worry the rest of the men are even worse at figuring things out.” Gendry sat down hard on the cot, putting his head in his hands. If there was a chance word could get out, he had to make up his mind quickly. 

“I don’t know.” He said leaning his head back. 

“We need those dragons, but how do we know, once she has the throne, she will not come for the North? We really do not know anything about her.” 

Gendry looked over at Arya in awe. It took them all day in discussions to sum up everything like she just did. “It’s Tommen’s crown.” 

“Then let him help decide.” Arya paused. “What else does she want?” 

Arya already knew the biggest part of the discussions, so it wouldn’t hurt to tell her the rest. “Mollen and the Kingslayer dead.” 

Arya made a face. “I understand Jamie, but why Mollen?” 

Gendry shrugged. “She hates magic for some reason.” 

“That’s stupid. Mollen even hates magic and she IS magic.” Arya shifted on the bed. 

He realized how close he was to her. “You really should go back to your tent.” 

“Too many people, and I can only be around Jamie for so long before I want to stab him.” Arya said, kicking legs out in front of her. Gendry laughed loudly. He could actually picture Arya stabbing the Kingslayer. After his laughter died, the silence spread between them once again, but unlike other girls, it was a comfortable silence. They both watched as Nymeria pushed into his tent and curled up in front of the fire. Arya watched her wolf with a small smile. “She likes it here.” 

The giant wolf was always sleeping in his tent. The first couple of times, it was extremely hard to fall asleep. He wasn’t certain if Nymeria was going to rip out his throat or not. She never did, just watched him. In a strange way it was comforting. “Yes, she does. I can’t get rid of either of you.” He jested. Arya punched his arm with a scowl on her face. 

Gendry just laughed. Almost everything she did made him laugh. “You really are a terrible lady.” He said rubbing his arm. Arya swung again, but he grabbed her arm before she hit him. Arya struggled weakly in his grasp. He was laughing, until she stopped moving. 

Arya’s grey eyes were watching him closely. He should let go of her wrist and get away. He knew that. He couldn’t. “Gendry?” Arya said his name quietly as she rolled up on her knees. 

His throat seemed dry. No words would come as she inched closer to him. She didn’t try to pull away from him, and that was probably the most terrifying part. “Arya” It was a whisper, or maybe even a prayer. Her eyes never left his. Neither of them spoke, while his heart tried to escape from his chest. Arya’s other hand somehow landed on his shoulder. He barely noticed it. His eyes wouldn’t leave hers, but he could feel her heartbeat dancing in her wrist.

Arya quickly leaned in and pressed her lips to his. He was frozen in place, while fire pumped through his body. Her lips were soft, but the kiss was firm. It was over entirely too quickly, and his wits hadn’t had time to recover. Some voice in the back of his head was yelling at him to stop her. Arya sat back on her knees still watching him. “Wh…what was that for?” He stammered out stupidly. Arya looked at his hand, still holding her wrist. 

She shrugged slightly, still looking at his hand. “The men were talking about kissing. I wanted to know what all the fuss was about.” He saw a blush flare across her cheeks. Her curiosity or her stubbornness was going to be the death of him. He wasn’t sure which one would get him first. “I don’t see why it’s such a big deal. It’s just lips touching.” 

Gendry felt his face heat up. “That’s not the kind of kiss they’re talking about.” The kiss was more than he dared to hope for, but it was just a chaste kiss. 

“What kind of kiss then?” Arya challenged, all embarrassment gone. “Did I do it wrong?” 

He was certain his ears were bright red now. “No not wrong, just different. You’re not supposed to be around the men.” He tried to change the subject. 

Arya shot him a look. “How is it different?” 

“Why are you asking me this?” He whined. This was pure torture. 

“Because you are Gendry.” Arya said simply. The words were simple, but to him it meant she trusted him. 

Gendry took a deep breath. “The kiss is different, not because of how you do it, but how you mean it.” Arya bit her lip in thought. He knew he was going to the worst of the seven hells, when his body leaned closer and gently pulled her closer. Her lips slightly parted in surprise. He took the opportunity to nip at that bottom lip she loved to chew on. Arya’s breath hitched, but she did the same to him in return. He should’ve known she would be a quick learner. 

Gendry was never his father’s son when it came to women, but he kissed a few women in his day. He was using everything he learned on Arya. The kiss chased away the cold and the uncertainties of war. Arya nipped at his lips with her teeth, as she explored his mouth. Some stung, but he didn’t mind, not when he could feel her lips pressing eagerly against his. Time was non existent with her touching him, pulling him closer. When she pulled herself into his lap, he almost didn’t notice, almost. The part of him that wanted to keep his head won out. 

Gendry gently spun Arya onto his pallet and pulled away. It took him several moments to get his thoughts in order. Arya was looking up at him, her lips slightly swollen. “Was that not right either?” 

He choked back a laugh. “That was very right Arya.” 

“Then why did you stop?” 

Gendry crossed the room and knelt down in front of her. “Arya if I keep kissing you Jon will take my head.” 

“Bugger Jon, I am not a child.” 

He was painfully aware of that. “Then if I keep kissing you, I will want to keep you.” 

Arya glared at him. “I am not a horse.” 

“I know; horses are far less difficult.” He said laughing. 

“Hey!” Arya shoved him back onto his ass. He couldn’t stop laughing now. 

After several moments of her glaring angrily and him laughing, Arya asked him a question that caught him off guard. “Why do you not hate me for hitting you?” Everyone else gets angry.” 

Her vulnerability startled him. “How could I hate you for being who you are?” 

“Because I am a terrible lady.” 

“If you were any kind of Lady, I would be dead in the fields of snow.” 

“That is true. You really need to improve your swordsmanship.” 

“No I don’t; because I have a hammer and a warrior princess at my side.” He joked, knowing how much she hated being called princess. 

Arya went strangely still and quiet. “It wouldn’t be so bad.” 

“What?” He was so confused. 

“If you were to keep me.” He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “I will never be a proper lady.” 

“I would never ask you to be one.” He said slowly, trying to take in what she was saying. He dared to hope for the first time. “Arya, just so we are clear; if I were to ask you to ask you to marry me, you would be my lady?” 

Arya narrowed her eyes at him. She really hated that term. “Aye, as long as you are not stupid about it, but I really do not have a say in who I get to marry.” 

He scooped her up in his arms and kissed her again. “I will speak to Robb.” Arya kissed him quickly and slid out of his arms. 

“What about the crown?” 

“I don’t want it.” 

“You would give it up?” 

“We have to win this war. I’m not sure we can without the dragons.” He answered honestly. 

Arya nodded once in agreement. “Do what you have to do, but make sure you don’t give her everything she wants. The men respect you; they will follow.” With one last kiss, he put on his furs again. “Where are you going? Arya asked before he stepped out. 

“I have a war to win.” 

“Now?” 

“I need to speak with Tommen and talk to Robb about our betrothal.”

Arya nodded. “I should talk to Jon.” She grimaced. 

“I can.” He volunteered for a truly terrifying task. 

“No, I do not want him to feed you to his dragon or something.”

He hadn’t even thought about that option. “You speak to Jon then.” Arya’s smile was the last thing he saw as he stepped out into his new future.


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter 29 - Robb Stark

The winds howled through the camp, making it impossible to hear the horns around them. The attack came mid day. At first he thought it was just another small band of wights, but they were under attack from three different sides. In truth, Robb was waiting for the full scale attack, hoping for it even. It wasn’t until he saw the enemies’ numbers, that he regretted that hope. There were hundreds of Others around them, and thousands of dead marching with them.

Robb pulled Ice from the frozen heart of a dead soldier, and dodged around grabbing arms. Jon’s blade sliced through the creature at his back arms. Mollen danced around keeping them off of Jon. Over the noise he heard her yell something about dragons in Valyrian. She was right. They needed Jon on his dragon. “Go Jon!” He yelled, cutting through frozen bodies. “We will hold the perimeter. Hurry!” Jon cleaved a creature in half before fighting his way further into the camp. Robb hoped they could hold off long enough. In the gloom of the day, it was hard to tell exactly how many of their enemy spread around them. 

A freezing heat pierced his thigh, as shocking blue eyes came up next to him. Its head rolled off of its shoulders and turned to ash before it hit the ground. Mollen stood before him, with her twin blades flashing through the air towards another wight. Robb had to shake his head. An overwhelming numbness was washing over his body, yet he fought on. 

Fire erupted into the gloomy grey and heat bloomed around them. The sight of burning wights gave the men new life. His army pushed forward, sending many of their enemy to their final deaths. However, as soon as Jon and his dragon fire would move away; their forces would surge forward, bringing new dead to life. If the wight’s numbers kept increasing like this, there was no way they could win this battle. 

Still he fought. It wouldn’t do any good for his men to see him fall. Several paces from him, Mollen tripped over a dead body and went down to the ground, hard. A Walker brought its sword down quickly towards her head. She managed to get her blade up to block the strike, but she was pinned to the ground. Robb had to cut his way through four wights to get to her. With a giant cut of his broadsword, Mollen was able to stand again. 

Many men had fallen, rose and fell again. There was no telling how long they had been fighting, but he was certain there was no end in sight. Jon made several passes above them, and each time they would get a small break. The pause never lasted long enough and soon they were surrounded once again. A giant column of fire shot hundreds of feet into the air. Robb turned his head to regain his sight and saw Mollen looking towards the sky. It was a waste. The fire touched nothing but air. 

Somewhere in the battle wolves began to howl. Before he could look around, shrieks filled the air. The Others began to retreat, moments before the sky was bathed in multicolored dragon fire. Men yelled in triumph, as soldiers like he had never seen streamed into the battlegrounds. The wights were quickly overtaken without the Others directing them. The battle was all but over. All the fighting just ended. A thundering cheer erupted across the camps. 

Robb shouted orders to his men, about the camp and the injured. As much as he needed to stay with the men, he had to get to his tent before he collapsed. He stumbled once. Mollen ran into his side, keeping him from falling. Somehow she managed to make it look like he was holding her up, when she was keeping him standing. 

Once inside his tent, Robb collapsed onto his pallet. “You are cut.” Mollen said once he stopped moving. 

“Aye, a Walker.” 

“Let me see.” Her words were choppy and her breath labored, other than that she seemed unharmed. 

“It is just a cut, go see to the men.” 

“No. I stay with you.” That was probably one of Jon’s orders. 

“Mollen it is just a cut.” 

“From a magic blade, You are… weak?” 

She was right. During the war and the months in camp, he grew used to the cuts and wounds of war. This was different. Robb removed his armor and ripped his breeches away from the wound so she could look. The gash was like nothing he had ever seen. The skin was cut clean across, but the blood froze to his side. Black veins traveled further up. Robb pulled his tunic off and saw that the veins were stretching towards his heart. “It spreads.” Mollen said as she pushed him back on his pallet. “Do not tell Jon.” Before he could ask what he wasn’t supposed to tell Jon, Mollen shoved her hand into the wound, speaking rapidly. What could only be described as liquid fire burned through his entire body. 

A muffled scream escaped his lips, before Mollen removed her hand and stepped away. Robb took several short breaths, trying to regain his composure. “Jon must not know I used magic.” Every word she said was thoughtful. “I will get thread for the wound.” Mollen disappeared quietly. Robb inspected the wound. The dark veins were gone. The wound itself was a dark blue, but he was no longer numb all over. 

While Robb was staring at the cut, Jon entered and stood watching him. “You are hurt?” 

“A scratch.” He smiled, glad to see his brother unharmed. 

“Mollen?” 

He almost told Jon what she did, but something made him keep her secret. “She cleaned it and is looking for thread to sew it up.” 

Jon took a ragged breath. “The men are reinforcing the perimeter. Daenerys soldiers are settling in, but most are still waiting on their supply lines to arrive.” 

“She has good timing.” 

“Aye, she will join us as soon as she is settled.” Jon said pacing slightly. Mollen returned and Jon stopped her. Robb watched as his brother looked her over, checking for scratches or blood. The way his brother looked at her made him think of his wife. It had been many months since he last seen her. He would give anything to be in her arms back at Winterfell; to see her shy smile as she played with his hair. Gods he missed her. 

Mollen disentangled herself from Jon and knelt down near his wound. She rubbed a stinging ointment into the wound before carefully starting to sew it together. “Theon is missing, Robb.” Jon sat at the foot of his bed. 

That news hurt. “We will start a search as soon as we get everything in order.” 

“Robb” Jon said sympathetically.

“He is my friend and the heir to the Iron Islands.” 

Jon looked at the ground and then back up at him. “The men say he deserted.” 

Robb tried to sit up, but Mollen shoved him back down. Theon wouldn’t be so cowardly. His friend wouldn’t do that to him. Theon wouldn’t force him to punish a friend, almost a brother. Robb clenched his teeth as the needle dug deeper into his leg. The pain was a reminder of his duties, of what his father would do. “If we find him, he will go on trial. We will have the truth.” Robb said a quick prayer out to the Old Gods. If Theon did run, he hoped he ran far and fast. He would hate to have to punish the man that had been his friend for so long. 

Jon glanced at the entrance to the tent. “Daenerys, Aegon, Gendry and Arya are almost here.” Ghost, Grey Wind and Nymeria pushed into the tent. Grey Wind curled up next to him, while Ghost and Nymeria settled into a corner. 

“I am not done.” Mollen said, halfway through his wound. 

“She will have to deal with it.” Jon said. “Finish stitching him.” 

The new arrivals crowded into the tent. Arya crawled on top of a few crates in the corner and sat cross legged. Robb smiled to himself. Their mother would’ve been furious with her right now. At first he was, but Arya proved to be a valuable asset in the field. Honestly, Robb couldn’t have been more proud of his little sister. She was a fighter and a damn good one. 

Gendry took his spot at the round table. The two Targaryens stood. “I would get up but…” Robb gestured to the wound on his leg. 

Daenerys glanced at Mollen, but other than that, didn’t acknowledge her. “We have much to discuss.” Aegon said seating himself at the table. Jon pulled a chair out for Daenerys to be seated.

“Aye, that we do. I suppose we should thank you for your timing.” 

“It was quite fortunate. If we wouldn’t have seen the large fire, we wouldn’t have found you as quickly.” Daenerys answered pouring herself some wine. 

Robb looked down at Mollen, who was tying off the thread. It hadn’t been for nothing. Mollen was purposely ignoring the room. “I suppose the Gods have given us a little luck.” Mollen wrapped his thigh tightly, making him clench his teeth. 

“Have you reached an agreement?” Aegon interrupted, not really one for small talk. 

Robb stood on shaky knees. “You should not be on it.” Mollen said steadying him. 

“Just to the table.” He said with a smile. Somewhere in the chaos, he became fond of their witch. Mollen followed him closely to make certain he didn’t fall. He knew he couldn’t be seen as weak. “The North remains a kingdom of its own.” Robb finally opened the talks. 

“That we agreed to, if the Iron Throne is ours.” Daenerys sat relaxed in her chair. 

“I have spoken with Tommen.” Gendry rested his massive war hammer on the table. “We believe that it is in the best interest of Westeros to win this war.” A smug smile spread across Aegon’s face. Daenerys was less expressive. “Baratheon will bend the knee to Targaryen once this war is won.” 

“That is excellent.” 

“If…” Gendry cut Aegon off. “Casterly Rock goes to Lord Tommen Baratheon and a hold goes to me and my betrothed.” Arya smirked from her perch. There was no doubt she knew what was coming. 

Daenerys sat in silent thought. “These are all of your terms?” She questioned. 

“Not all of them.” Gendry glanced over his shoulder at Arya. “Jamie Lannister is pardoned.” 

“Absolutely not!” Aegon yelled. 

“He killed my father.” Daenerys showed her temper. 

“Tommen has lost his mother, father, brother, one uncle is missing and Tywin Lannister is assumed dead. It is our only other term.” 

“I will not have Kingslaying scum in my kingdom!” Daenerys careful anger cut through the room. 

Gendry smiled. “We are giving up a kingdom without bloodshed. I think it is fair to give the boy his uncle.” Gendry spoke calmly as Arya smiled behind him. Those two were going to be a fearsome duo if they made it out of this. 

“We are at war and he is injured. There is no guarantee Lannister even lives through this.” Jon said, playing peacemaker. 

“Where would the boarder be?” Aegon questioned. 

“Moat Cailen, as it has always been.” 

Aegon jumped in. “The south will control the moat.” 

“No, it has always been a Northern passage, all the way back to the first men.” Robb said firmly. 

“Jon Snow will control the moat.” Daenerys surprised everybody in the room. 

“Me?” Jon said shocked. 

“You are Stark and Targaryen. The pass will be both north and south.” 

Robb smiled at his brother. “I actually quite like that idea. We’ll discuss this in detail once this is over.” 

“Aegon and I must discuss this amongst ourselves. Please excuse us. You will have our answer soon.” The Mother of Dragons dismissed herself and nephew, leaving very tired warriors alone in the tent. The wind howled around them as they sat in silence. 

“The storm grows worse.” Mollen’s quiet voice broke everybody out of their stupor. 

Robb laughed humorlessly. “Even the North fights against us.” 

“I do not believe the storm is natural.” Mollen spoke as she watched the top of the tent. 

“What do you mean not natural, it is winter in the North.” Robb asked with is full attention on her. 

“Nothing.” 

“Mollen” Jon cut her off. 

“It is a feeling, I cannot explain more. The end will come soon.” Her words chilled him to the bone. They learned to trust Mollen’s feelings. 

The entire battle felt like it was building to something, but hearing put so plainly scared him. Whatever the end brought, Robb was certain he would make it through. He had to; his Mella was waiting for him and he wouldn’t break a promise to her. Robb was going to be in her arms at least one more time before he died.


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter 30- Mollen

Weeks of endless snow, that was all that followed the attack. The endless white of winter had the men restless. The dragon queen’s army was now settled, but many were not fairing well. Unsurprisingly, her Unsullied and Khalasar were not adapting well to the cold. The clothes from the dead were used to clothe the foreign army, but many still grew ill. That was what usually happened when you put people in an environment so different from their homeland. There were harsh feelings amongst the men, but nobody could deny the advantage the dragons gave them in battle. 

Mollen watched as Jon circled the tower on his white dragon. He would dive close to the tower and wave, before he made his scouting rounds. He was enjoying his freedom. She could tell by the smile on his face. She waited until he disappeared from view, before climbing down from the window. 

It didn’t take long for her to dig through part of the crumbled wall to retrieve her parcel. Mollen sat cross legged on the floor, unwrapped it, and spread out the map. She placed a stone on each corner, before sitting back and closing her eyes. With a few quiet words, images flooded through her mind. Rocks, trees, mill ruins, and frozen streams flashed by quickly. Wights and Others grew in numbers the closer she got. She needed something, anything, to mark their location. 

All at once the moving images halted. Mollen, in her mind, stood facing the back of a woman. This was no ordinary woman. Long frost bitten hair flowed down her back. What was left of the light, danced playfully off of her frozen skin. The woman was beautiful, in an unearthly way. She found her self distracted by this Ice Queen. After a mental slap, she forced herself to focus on her task. All around her wights and others moved about; that wasn’t what she was looking for. 

Pushing past the queen, she found what she needed. There was a large pile of fallen rocks, and a small cliff. That was enough for her. Mollen started to withdraw from her spell, when something stopped her. She was standing in front of the frozen queen once again. “Youuu…” The voice broke into her head as pain shot through her body. “cann… not… winnn…” Every word sliced into her. “Ssstark will return… to meee…” With her mind stuck in her spell, her body managed to grab a small blade and cut deep into her palm. The pain jerked her out of her head, with a gasp of air. 

Mollen sat for several minutes replaying what just happened to her. Something was there at the edge of her thoughts, but she wasn’t sure exactly what it was. Nothing like that had ever happened before. This Ice Queen was beyond powerful. It took several long moments to regain her composure. Mollen studied the map in front of her. With a coal, she marked the places she saw with her spell. All around them on the map stood small x’s. They were almost surrounded, and the Ice Queen was just beyond the lake, waiting. Mollen wrapped her hand and hid her map once again, just in time. 

Footsteps ascended the stairs. Mollen stood in the center of the room as Daenerys Targaryen entered. “So this is where you hide.” The dragon queen circled her, like a predator does prey. 

Mollen tracked her movements, without moving her head. Her twin blades rested on her back; she briefly wondered, how much trouble it would cause if she had to kill the Queen. “You would know what it is to hide.” She answered calmly, remembering what Jon told her. Daenerys stared coldly at her for several long moments. Her insult was not lost on the dragon queen. Daenerys dusted off a rock and sat. “How may I help you, your grace?” Mollen bowed, mockingly deep. She didn’t remember all of the details, but she knew she would die before serving a Targaryen. 

“I believe we should speak, woman to woman.” 

“I do not believe we have anything to speak of.” 

Daenerys ignored her words. “You are from Valeria.” It wasn’t a question, so she waited for the point. “I have only heard of my homeland from histories. Is it what they say?” 

This woman had some nerve. “You try to kill me, and then ask of my home?” She had to take several calming breaths. 

Daenerys smiled. “That was my mistake.” 

“You did not know my power.” Mollen cut her off. Keeping her emotions under control was getting harder to do.

“That is true, but I let my anger control me. Magic took my husband and my unborn child from me. When I heard there was a witch, I could not let the past repeat itself. Magic is…” 

“A curse” She cut the queen off again, finishing the statement. 

Daenerys turned her head slightly to the side. “Yes, what does it take from you?” 

That answer was something that only Jon knew. “Too much. I am sorry for your loss.” She was truly sorry. No mother deserved to lose a child, but that didn’t excuse her from trying to kill her. 

Daenerys looked down at her hands. “When the sun rises in the west and sets in the east. When the sea goes dry and mountains blow in the wind like leaves. When your womb quickens again, and you bare a living child. Then he will return, and not before.” Daenerys said quietly to herself. Shadow magic had touched the dragon queen. Words tickled the back of her mind, but she brushed them aside. Daenerys problems were not hers. Mollen sat quietly and let the other woman collect her thoughts. “Were our people enemies? I get the feeling your dislike of me came before the dragon fire.” 

Mollen sat crossed legged in the middle of the room. So far, Daenerys just wanted to talk. Searching her past was difficult. There were so many holes. “Yes and no. Those that walk the fire ruled. Very few controlled it; they had no choice but to serve. My people controlled great beast, made horns to train them, and eventually died for it.” She had to fill in holes in her statements, but what she said was most likely true. 

“They kept slaves?” Daenerys asked with all of her attention on Mollen. 

In all of the memories that remained, she hadn’t seen those words. That was what they were though. They were slaves to dragon keepers, and slaves to magic. “Until death.” 

Daenerys took a deep breath. “Our homeland, what is left?” 

“The great cities sunk. What is left of the land slowly returns, but most is charred.” Flashes of the rare green oases scattered amongst the waste made her smile. That was home. 

“I would like to see it.” Daenerys said quietly. 

Mollen thought of her people, of the faces she no longer remembered. She thought of the lands she hunted, of the warmth. There was much she would give up to see it one more time. “It is better off without us.” To Westerosi, Valaria was a dangerous waste land that was cursed. As long as it stayed cursed, her people were safe in their seclusion. Someone told her that. They were wise words, too bad his face was lost to her now. 

“You do not have to like me. I understand if you don’t. We are in this battle together. I promise that no person will ever be a slave, during my rule.” 

“I pray you rule long and well.” As much as she disliked what the Targaryen ancestors did to hers, Mollen couldn’t deny that Daenerys cared about her people. 

Mollen heard footsteps, before Jon appeared at the stairs. “Mollen!” He yelled, coming to a stop when he saw Daenerys. “Is everything well?” 

“We were just talking.” Daenerys stood. “Thank you for your time Mollen.” Daenerys dismissed herself. 

“What was that about?” Jon asked, crossing the room. 

“She was curious. You are back soon.” She didn’t want him asking more questions. 

“The snow picked up. I couldn’t see anything. Are you well?” He kept pushing. 

She hated the way he saw through her. “I am.” 

“Your eyes, they glow when you’ve used magic.” Jon knew her entirely too well. “Mollen, what are you doing?” Her locations were important, but Jon wouldn’t see it that way. “Are you trying to lose yourself?” He raised his voice slightly. 

“No”

“Why can you not leave magic alone?” Jon was angry. She didn’t want to do magic; it was necessary. She stayed quiet too long. “I cannot watch you disappear, not if you do not even care.” Jon turned to leave. 

“Jon wait!” She grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the rubble. She pulled out her map and spread it out. Jon would know exactly how much magic she had been doing, but she couldn’t let him leave without an explanation. 

“What is this?” 

“Locations of Old Ones.” Mollen stared at the map, unable to look at him. “I have been tracking their movements.” 

“Why would…” 

“We have to know Jon. You have lost too many.” 

Jon wasn’t happy, but he was a leader. “What is this mark?” He pointed to the circle among the x’s.

“The Queen, she is close.” 

“You’ve seen her?” Mollen shook her head. “The others need to see this.” Jon grabbed the map and her arm, before dragging her across camp. He ordered for the war counsel to be summoned, as he drug her into Robb’s tent. 

Jon ignored Robb’s protests as he spread out the map. “Jon… what is this?” 

Most of the Lords, Gendry and Daenerys arrived by that time. “Locations of our enemy.” Jon said quieting the room. 

“How do you know?” Daenerys asked first. 

Jon looked back at her. She was supposed to speak now. “I have been trying to locate them, so we would not be surprised again.” Mollen stayed several paces behind the table. 

“Why didn’t you say something before now?” Aegon demanded. 

She didn’t bother looking at him. “I was not certain.” 

“You are now?” Robb turned to look at her. 

Jon tapped the lone circle. “That is her.” 

“You are certain?” Robb questioned again. 

“Yes, she spoke to me.” The room went quiet. 

“You did not tell me that.” Jon said in shock. 

“You did not give me time.” He did literally drag her down the tower. 

Robb stood leaning over the table, staring over the mark. “What did she say?” 

“You cannot win. Stark will return to me.” She repeated the words. 

“What does that mean?” Several asked. She had no idea. 

“It means we can kill her.” Aegon said as a gust of wind shook the tent. 

“We can’t go out in this storm.” Some other lord countered. 

She was stuck listening to them argue. “The snow doubles every half day. We would lose too many men if we attack now.” Jon said standing as well. 

“So knowing were she is does us no good.” Daenerys said at last. 

“We can’t wait for the storm to end.” Gendry finally spoke up. 

“Unless you can stop a storm we have to.” Aegon interjected. 

His jesting remarked brought a spell to mind. It was old and powerful. “I can.” She said without thinking. 

“No!” Jon almost yelled, giving her a dark look. 

“You can stop a winter storm?” Robb asked, looking at Jon. 

“I can.” 

“If we get a break, we can end this.” Gendry said, also watching Jon. 

“What will it take from you?” Jon asked, ignoring the room. If she answered that, Jon wouldn’t allow it. “Mollen?” 

“I would have to stop nature itself. It would take everything.” 

“No!” 

“Jon, this may be our only chance.” Robb argued for her. 

“You do not know what you ask. We find another way.” Jon said rather convincingly. 

Gendry tried to jump in. “Jon”

Jon slammed his fist into the table. “I said no, You cannot ask this of her.” 

The room went silent. “We know where she is now, We have some time to come up with another plan.” Daenerys reasoned, trying to calm the room. 

“The storm could end tomorrow.” Some southern lord threw in. 

The room broke into multiple discussions. There was name calling and yelling, but nothing would be solved the first night. There was only one true answer. Jon would never agree to it. The only way they had a chance to win this war, was if she stopped the storm. It was just a feeling, but if the sun could break through, it might weaken her enough for someone to kill the queen. 

Mollen slipped out of the tent, leaving them to argue amongst themselves. Grabbing and extra fur, she climbed her tower. In one sheltered area, she had a pile of furs and even a straw pillow. She threw the extra fur onto the pile and climbed higher to the window. The snow was letting up slightly, but they were fools if they thought it would end soon. She sat for hours, watching it snow. It wasn’t like she wanted to lose herself, to leave Jon. She just couldn’t think of another way to end this.

“Do you hate this world so much?” Jon’s sad question made her jump. She didn’t hear him approach. 

“No Jon.” 

“Why would you put that in their head? They want you to kill yourself.” 

“I do not know another way.” She climbed down. “I want to stay with you, more than anything I have ever wanted.” The admission was terrifying, but true. 

“Then stay, we will find another way.” She believed he believed that. “Stay with me Mollen.” His voice was so soft, so sincere. Jon gently ran his knuckles down the side of her cheek. The warmth of his touch weakened her. Mollen kissed the palm of his hand. She didn’t want to speak. All she wanted was him. 

Stepping into his arms, Mollen stood on her toes to reach his lips. Jon eagerly returned the kiss. His hands cupped her face, surrounding her. Mollen stepped back, pulling him with her. Somewhere behind her was her bed. His kisses became softer, hotter. Kneeling down on the furs, she tried to take him with her. Jon broke away. “Mollen, we cannot.” Her breathing was hurried, but her mind was set. She knew he wanted this too. Only his misplaced honor was stopping him. 

“We can.” She stood and unbuckled her twin blades, setting them on the floor. Slowly she unlaced, unbuckled, and untied the layers of clothing. Jon stood, speechless as each item hit the floor. Never before had she been naked in front of a man. Her heart was hammering in her chest, as she stepped out of the last of her bindings. Her eyes were glued shut; she couldn’t look at him. 

His hand, grazing her ribs, made her jump. When she finally looked up at him, relief washed over her. The look in Jon’s eyes was that of a wolf that just caught prey, hungry. His fingers lightly traced her body, from neck to navel, paying careful attention to each breast. Jon touched every bump, every scar, every inch of her. Dragon fire was ice, compared to how his touch made her feel.

Jon whispered her name before his lips crashed into hers. His furs tickled her skin, as he pressed her body against the cold stone behind her. It wasn’t enough; she needed to feel more of him. Mollen pulled frantically at his furs. Jon helped her remove his clothing, only breaking his kiss to remove his tunic. His chest against hers was almost too much. The flames within threatened to break free. She had to break away to breathe, but Jon’s hands slipped lower on her body, exploring, taking the breath from her once again. Jon pulled her closer. A whimper escaped her lips when her body brushed against his leather breeches. She had to pull back once again. The feelings were too much. Jon kissed his way down her neck, unaware of her fight for control. The fire inside threatened to consume her, and possibly him. 

Jon’s magic fingers found a place that only she had touched, and her body shook. “Jon” She pleaded. He simply kissed her navel as his fingers slipped into her folds. He teased her center and her knees threatened to buckle. Jon caught her before she could fall and gently eased her back onto the furs beneath them. Jon’s breeches were straining, as he kneeled next to her, staring down at her. Mollen sat up and started tugging at his laces, loosening them. 

Jon stepped back and slowly stepped out of them and his small clothes. Mollen watched as he hesitated, unsure, before he joined her on the furs. “Are you…” She kissed him, before he could finish his thought. She had seen men before, but never wanted one so completely, not like this. Gently, Jon laid her back onto the furs. Leaning on his elbow next to her, Jon traced the curves of her body once again. He was so gentle, unlike the world around them. He found the wetness between her thighs and her body arched into his hand as he slipped inside her again. 

“Jon please…” She begged for the first time in her life. Jon slowly rolled on top of her. Jon’s body pressed against her skin. His length was trapped on her hips and stomach, trapped between them. Jon stared down at her, his grey eyes almost black, before he kissed her. She rocked her hips, needing friction. Jon rolled his head back and groaned, as her wetness ran up the length of his shaft. Unable to take any more, Jon moved lower and positioned himself at her entrance. Before she could prepare herself, Jon kissed her hard and pushed himself inside of her. Her muscles tightened around him in shock. 

His head fell onto her chest and his breath seemed labored, but he stayed still above her. When she could bear it no longer, she moved underneath him. His eyes met hers and he pulled almost out, before slowly pushing back in. Her nails scraped down his back and her feet tried to push him further inside of her. She kissed him again, to let him know she was okay. Jon moved inside her again, faster this time. He moved in and out, as she rolled her hips, trying to get used to the feeling. Soon he was moving quickly inside of her. The fire built once again and danced on the stones around them. Her body shook and her muscles clenched around him. Jon groaned and fell against her, spilling his seed inside her. 

After their breathing steadied, Jon slowly pulled out and rolled over next to her. They laid side by side in silence for awhile. “Mollen?” He finally broke the spell. 

“Yes?” 

“Why is the tower smoking?” She looked around and giggled. The room was steaming from the moisture in the stones and the flames from her passion. 

Jon pulled the furs around them and she lay on his shoulder. “If you were a normal man that could have killed you.” Mollen looked up at him. Jon smiled and squeezed her tighter. There would be no excuses from him to leave tonight. It didn’t take long for Jon to fall asleep next to her. 

Mollen waited a little while longer, before carefully pulling away from him. Quickly she dressed, making sure not to wake Jon. She couldn’t think about what she was about to do. The steam had settled on the floor of the tower. Mollen knelt down, next to a sleeping Jon. Tears slipped down her cheeks and land unnoticed on his face. She kissed him one last time. Mollen left a small dirk next to him on the bed, before slipping out of the tower. She had to get away from him, before she changed her mind. 

There was one last stop she had to make. Mollen easily slipped past the guards and into his tent. He was asleep on his pallet. Mollen placed her hand over his mouth. Robb sat up in a panic. Once he calmed, she removed her hand. “What are you doing?” Robb demanded. 

“I am leaving.” 

Robb looked around the tent. “Where is Jon?” 

“Asleep. This is our hope. I have to leave.” 

“Jon..”

“Will not let me go, we both know this.” Robb swallowed hard. He knew this was the right decision, but fought the loyalty he had to his brother. “It is my choice.” It was a painful choice. She tried to ease his guilt. “In two days, I say the spell. Be ready for my signal.” 

Robb slowly nodded. “How will I know?” 

She smiled and turned to leave. “You will know.” 

“Will it kill you?” She hoped he wouldn’t ask that. 

“My mind yes, my body no.” 

“We will look for you, when this is over.” She hadn’t thought of that. 

“Promise me, if you find me alive, you will kill me.” 

Robb looked horrified. “I will not.” 

“Please Robb, Jon will not be able.” 

“Even if you forget yourself, there is a place for you in Winterfell.” 

The offer touched her. “No, without my mind, my magic will be uncontrolled. I will be a danger. If you find me, you put a blade through my heart.” She couldn’t be a danger to the people she grew to love. It took several moments, but Robb slowly agreed. “Tell him… I am sorry.” 

Mollen hurried out of Robb’s tent. She made it to the edge of the forest with a horse in tow. Mounting up, she set out west, at a steady pace. The snow slowed her down, but the horses’ footing was true. Soon the camp was behind her, and nothing but the wind and snow lie ahead. 

A noise at her back caught her attention. “Go back Jon.” She said to the white wolf. Ghost jumped in front of her horse, causing it to stop. She stepped off and went to the giant wolf. “I am sorry.” A tear slipped down her cheek. Ghost snarled silently. “This is the only way.” It was easier to believe that, when Jon wasn’t staring back at her.  
She ran her knuckles down the wolf’s soft muzzle. “I wanted you to be my last memory. Forgive me.” Ghost threw his head back in a silent howl that shattered what was left of her aching heart. 

Climbing back on the spooked horse, she continued riding west. She knew Ghost would follow. A quick spell would fix that. It wasn’t one she wanted to do, but this was something she had to do alone. Turning her horse, she looked back at Jon in his wolf. “I am sorry.” She repeated as tears flowed freely. She said the words that sent the animal part of the wolf running the other direction in fear. Mollen pulled the furs around her as the last of her tears fell. It wasn’t until Ghost completely disappeared from sight that she continued alone on, to her end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow that one was tough. there is only 4 more chapters for this. The end of the story and a one more chapter for each of the guys. Thanks for sticking with me, it's almost there.


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